


Unlikely

by The_Koira



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: BDSM, Canon-Typical Vague Pseudo-Science, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gohan has daddy issues, M/M, Past Torture, Vegeta has all the issues, basically the entire cast sans Goku, mental health, purring and other alien sex cliches, the whole emotional rainbow from fluff to despair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Koira/pseuds/The_Koira
Summary: Gohan and Vegeta become partners. Sparring partners, of course.
Relationships: Son Gohan/Vegeta
Comments: 55
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ignores most of GT – basically meaning Pan is not an asshole. Also, Goku is not off training Uub but instead has gone to train in Otherworld upon Kibitokai's mysterious request. DB Super wasn’t even a thing when I started writing this, so that’s ignored too. And yes, I may have tweaked the characters' ages a little, but I don't think it should make a big difference. Enjoy!

_featuring: a humiliating defeat and beads of sweat rolling off delicious muscles_

  
  


“No, thanks,” Gohan said resolutely, holding his book higher pointedly to leave no doubt that he was reading something _very_ important.

“Oh come on, Gohan,” Goten cajoled. “It's always the same with just Trunks and me, we need some variety. And Kami knows _you_ need the exercise.”

Gohan huffed, turning a page unperturbed. He wasn't going to let his little brother rile him up that way.

Trunks, with his arms crossed in front of his chest in a gesture that reminded Gohan strongly whose spawn the brat was, rolled his eyes. “It's no use, Goten,” he said. “And honestly, if he's _this_ enthusiastic about it, it's probably more fun without him anyway.”

Goten sighed. “Fine. Let's go outside. Gohan, if you change your mind, come out later and we'll kick your ass, yeah?”

“You wouldn't,” Pan announced, coming in from the kitchen and holding a gigantic bowl of cereal and a spoon.

Goten blinked. “Wouldn't what?”

“Kick his ass. Dad is stronger than you, you know. He would totally own you.”

Gohan failed to suppress his smile at his daughter's adorable support. Trying not to grin too broadly, he held the book up to hide his face.

Unfortunately, Trunks laughed incredulously at Pan's comment, ruining his moment of inner triumph. “No, he wouldn't. Your daddy is a bookworm! Sure, he was strong, like, a hundred years ago, but how long's it been since he's trained? Nah, I'll bet you anything me and Goten can kick his ass.”

Pan attempted a contemptuous “pfft”ing sound, spraying cereal all over the couch table. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Trunks replied wittily.

“My dad is stronger than you any time!”

“No, he's not!”

“He fought against all kinds of enemies before you were even born!”

“Sure, a million years ago, and now he's old.”

“He's not that old! Saiyans live to be... uh... really old!”

Trunks waved a hand impatiently. “Face it, Pan, your daddy is afraid of sparring with us since he knows he's gonna lose.”

“He wouldn't!”

“Yes, he would.”

“My dad's the strongest person on Earth!”

“Not anymore.”

“My dad is stronger than _your_ dad!”

“Oh come on, you can't believe _that_!” Silently, Gohan agreed with Trunks' incredulous reply.

“Well, at least he's stronger than _you_!”

“Then why is he too chicken to prove it?”

“He doesn't have to prove anything...-”

“All right,” Gohan said, sighing inwardly.

He didn't really care whether or not he could best Goten and Trunks in a fight, but there was something about being your ten-year-old daughter's hero...

“All right,” he said again, shutting his book with a snapping sound, “let's show you boys who's boss.”

*****

  
  


Losing to Trunks had been pretty bad.

Losing to _Goten_ had been humiliating.

His little brother was supposed to be the weakest of all demis. Gohan could easily stomach losing to someone like his father or Vegeta, he wasn't proud like that, but _Goten_? Nursing a deep ki cut in his side as he limped through the house in search of some ice for the bruise on his shoulder, Gohan reflected on why this rankled so much. Did he still put so much stock into who was stronger than who? Wasn't he above that by now?

And even if Trunks and Goten had proven to be quicker than him and had impressive stamina, he had more experience! Better nerves during a real fight too, probably, he told himself. The boys had never actually fought for their lives or anything. How did you measure strength anyway, he asked himself as he slapped on an icepack, scowling. Then he had a mental image of aliens in Frieza-uniforms with _scouters_ (“Three thousand? Sir, that can't be right! This thing must be broken!”) and almost smiled in nostalgia.

Leaning against the counter, he sighed.

It didn't matter. Experience and nerves were one thing. But strength and power counted for more when you fought an enemy; they would make the difference in the end.

And Gohan was weak. Once he had been the hero who had saved the world. Now he had become a bookworm. He had inherited his father's power and talent, but he had let it rot, complacently and lazily.

He was just glad Videl was out of the house doing some work for the Satan Foundation and had not seen his embarrassing defeat. His wife still seemed to be under the impression that he was an impressive warrior – which, okay, he was, compared to most of Earth’s population. But clearly she and his daughter had an opinion of him that he could not live up to.

Pan had shut herself in her room now, seeming almost more embarrassed than Gohan was.

And if something were to happen to her, her uncle would have to be the one to protect her, since her father was too weak...

That did it.

No, he couldn't accept being weak. He had to be strong again.

His father was gone, and if someone threatened Earth, who would take care of that? Goten, Trunks? They lacked experience, and besides they never took anything serously. Vegeta might be more interested in the challenge than the outcome. Piccolo had withdrawn from almost everything, spending half of his time at the Lookout with Dende and the other half meditating in the desert. Krillin and the other humans were too weak, Bra and Pan were too young.

No, it came down to him. He had a responsibility.

Straightening up, Gohan took a deep breath and dropped the ice pack on the counter. Time to man up.

He would have to start training again, and be disciplined about it. Adopt a rigorous training regime. He could get in one or two hours of working out every day after coming home from the university. Work on more complex katas during his morning routine.

But... he bit his lip. None of that mattered if he didn't have a sparring partner. That was what he really needed. Strengthening his muscles and regaining his former power level was relatively easy, but that recent fight had shown that he needed to work most of all on his technique, re-sharpen his senses and reactions and, well, get used to _fighting_ again.

He sometimes, rarely, sparred with Piccolo. But the Namekian was no real challenge for him, especially if he regained his old strength fast, and that _was_ the plan. It was becoming definite in his mind very quickly now. And after that day's disaster he had no desire to spar with the boys again anytime soon. He would never hear the end of it if he lost. And also, their technique was terrible, even he could see that. They couldn't _teach_ him anything.

There was really only one option left.

He gulped.

Well, if it couldn't be helped...

******

  
  


The next day, Gohan stopped by Capsule Corp after work. He knocked on the door before entering since he could sense Bulma on the other side and didn't want to give her a heart attack. “Hello,” he called, walking into the kitchen.

“Oh! Hi, Gohan,” Bulma replied. “I'm sorry I don't have much time, I'm about to leave for an appointment.” She didn't add 'what are you doing here?', but Gohan could hear the implied question in her voice. He was a somewhat regular guest at their house, but mainly because Bra and Pan were close and he often dropped his daughter off or picked her up. Showing up alone and unprompted was an unusual occurrence.

“I'm looking for Vegeta,” Gohan said and his heart gave a nervous thump. “I, uh, want to ask him something.”

“Oh,” Bulma looked surprised. “He's in the gravity room.”

“Right,” Gohan said, not pointing out that he'd already known that. Vegeta's ki was undetectable to his senses, as it usually was for most of the day. That meant the prince was either dead (very unlikely), suppressing his aura to virtually nothing (which Vegeta _never_ did, preferring to maintain a menacing presence at all times), or in the gravity room with its thick walls designed to contain high levels of ki. Judging by his disappearances to Gohan's senses, Vegeta had spent hours in the gravity room every day for years.

Not that he was keeping track of Vegeta's ki or anything. Of course not.

“It's over in the other building. Down that hall, across the atrium to your right, down two flights of stairs, and then to your left,” Bulma said. “Then you'll see that archway thing, and once you've walked past the basement labs, you'll...”

“What?” Gohan said, blinking, “this is a pretty big house...”

“Oh, you'll find it,” Bulma said, picking up her keys and looking distracted. “Or get Trunks to help you. Bra's still at school.”

“I'm sure I'll find it, thanks.” Gohan privately thought he would rather get lost in this building and wander around for hours before he'd ask _Trunks_ for help. Maybe he could find Dr. Briefs or his wife instead?

“Okay, bye!” Bulma said distractedly and went out through the door with a cheerful wave directed at him.

Gohan sighed and made his way down the hall Bulma had first indicated. To his surprise though, he actually managed to remember her directions as he walked around, and less than three minutes later he stood in front of the gravity room.

Much too soon for his liking. He gulped and took a deep breath.

Before he could lose his nerve, he quickly knocked on the door. For a moment he wondered whether Vegeta would even hear it, being engaged in his training. Then again, a Saiyan's ears were sharp and ready to pick up the smallest noise during a fight. Sure enough, the buzzing noise of the gravity room became lower and lower as it powered down.

Gohan's palms were starting to sweat.

The doors slid open and Vegeta stood in the doorway, wiping sweat off his face with a towel.

“What do you want?” he asked in a bored tone.

“Hi,” Gohan said, trying for a small smile. “Training hard, huh?” He was _not_ looking at the rolling muscles beneath the tightest of tight training outfits. He wasn't. He kept his gaze fixed on Vegeta's face, but the effect of those beady eyes boring into his was possibly even worse.

“What do you _want_?” Vegeta asked again with a hint of impatience.

Gohan swallowed. “Um. Well. I was going to ask if you would... spar with me sometime.”

Vegeta's eyebrows rose.

“You know,” Gohan spoke on quickly, “like, once a week or something. Just for training. I'm really out of shape and I want to get a bit fitter again. Now that dad is gone. You know. Protecting the world and all that,” he finished lamely.

“And what would I gain from that?” Vegeta said after a pause.

Gohan was taken aback for a moment. He hadn't thought about that. What _would_ Vegeta gain? “A worthy opponent,” he said finally. When he saw Vegeta's eyes widen ever so slightly at those words, he knew he had him convinced. He tried not to smile. He knew Vegeta must have been bored out of his mind ever since his father had left with Kibitokai. With Goku gone, the only one Vegeta sparred with regularly was Trunks and there was simply no challenge in that. Not for Vegeta, anyway.

“All right,” Vegeta sniffed after a moment, pointedly rolling his eyes to show this was a case of charity, but Gohan knew better.

“Great!” he said, trying not to let his enthusiasm show. “Great. I, uh, I usually leave work early on Thursdays, would that be okay for you?”

“Sure.”

“Great,” he said again, immediately wondering how lame he must seem. “Okay. I'll see you Thursday afternoon, then.”

“You'll find me,” Vegeta said, turning around to effectively indicate the end of the conversation by slamming the door shut.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_featuring: reflections about fashion and an extensive overuse of the word “cock”_

  
  


The next Thursday, Gohan flew home faster than usual, partly because he was excited and partly because the flight could serve as a first warm-up. He pulled an old gi out from the back of his closet, unused for... a year? ...and a half? He chuckled fondly as he imagined the disbelieving look his father would have if he ever heard his son had foregone his training for that long.

Well, Gohan wasn't like his father.

Pulling on the loose clothing, he cast his senses around for Vegeta's ki again. He'd taken the prince's cryptic remark at the end of their last conversation to mean he would choose the place of their sparring, and Gohan would just have to go and find him.

Sure enough, he had sensed Vegeta's ki moving during his own flight home, then stopping, and now it was slowly rising. His opponent was ready.

Gohan looked into their bedroom mirror. He hadn't worn clothes like these in so long he hardly recognized himself. Once upon a time, he had been proud to wear Piccolo's outfit, and his father's, and even, absurdly, a uniform that looked like Vegeta's when they had been on Namek. Those days were gone. He was now proud to wear a suit and tie that showed he had a respectable job at the university in one of the capitals. He was proud to walk around his house in his pajamas, happy to not have to be on his guard all the time, because the peace he had helped create was a lasting one. He was even proud to wear old jeans and sweaters to help Videl paint rooms in their home, or pulling weeds in their garden, because it showed he was a responsible husband. But this... was he still proud of being a fighter? _Was_ he still a fighter?

Sure, he went through his katas almost every morning because it calmed him down, and he flew back and forth to work since he still was faster than any vehicle around, but apart from that?

He hadn't trained his daughter. There were plenty of other people around for that. Pan sparred with Goten and Trunks from time to time and got advice from Piccolo on her tactics on the occasions the Namekian visited their home. Even Chichi was never above criticizing and advising on her stance and posture. And most importantly: from the way she often came home exhausted from visiting Bra, Gohan had a feeling the girls secretly trained with Vegeta. He had been careful not to mention this suspicion to Videl, who disliked Vegeta – and who could blame her?

Well. If their arrangement worked out, he would have to tell her that _he_ was training with Vegeta.

For now, he had only told her vaguely that he’d go sparring but had carefully not mentioned who he was meeting, knowing that Videl would assume it to be Piccolo. He felt slightly guilty about this. But it was only a lie by omission. He would of course tell her eventually if this became a regular thing. They kept no secrets from each other.

He’d just have to do it carefully and when the time was right. Making such a clear effort to keep their _daughter_ away from Vegeta, Videl would probably not approve of her _husband_ training with him.

His stomach clenched slightly with apprehension. Training with Vegeta... maybe that had been a bad idea for all sorts of reasons? Sure, the prince was the strongest fighter left on the planet, and years ago he might have been the only one to provide a challenge for Gohan. But now, if he had already lost to _Goten_ , things had obviously changed. Gohan was overcome with a sudden image of himself standing there stupidly, unable even to ascend to Super Saiyan. Wouldn't that be great? Vegeta would either laugh his ass off and later make him the laughing stock of the entire crew, or he would get angry and attack Gohan for real, trying to draw out the transformation in painful ways. Or (Gohan gulped) he would have his worst suspicions confirmed, that the son of his rival was worth nothing, and huff in disappointment and never speak to Gohan again.

Maybe training with Vegeta had been a _very_ bad idea?

Well. He couldn't stall any longer. Vegeta probably didn't like to be kept waiting. He didn't want to have to deal with an angry Vegeta if he could help it.

Sighing, he took to the air, mentally locked onto Vegeta's ki to get his bearings and resigned himself to the worst.

His opponent might be ready.

But Gohan was not.

*****

  
  


He landed a while later in a large barren area, devoid of people, animals and even plants. Vegeta was sitting on a rock with his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

“Nice place,” Gohan said awkwardly for a hello.

Vegeta grunted. “I used to train here with Kakarott.” He opened his eyes. Gohan's heart jumped in his chest as the older Saiyan looked straight at him, smirking. “That's why there's nothing left to destroy.”

“Right.” Gohan wondered why Vegeta would tell him this. Was it a challenge? Did it imply that Gohan should match his father as a training partner? If so, he had no chance. “Well,” he said, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. He had sparred with Piccolo and his father all the time when he'd been younger, why was this so much more awkward now? “Let's warm up, I suppose?”

“I'm warm,” said Vegeta and fired a ki blast at him he could barely dodge.

Gohan looked up from where he'd caught himself and saw Vegeta laughing out loud, still sitting on his rock. Against his will, he had to grin. “Well, if that's the way it is,” he said, taking a fighting stance and powering up quickly. “Let's see how much I suck at this.” With a yell, he ascended to Super Saiyan. Vegeta was quick to follow. Damn, it looked a lot more casual when the prince did it...

But Gohan's fighting spirit was waking up now, and the excitement gave him an adrenaline rush strong enough to launch himself at Vegeta enthusiastically. When he landed his first blow, he admitted to himself that yes, possibly, he had missed this after all. It felt great.

But when Vegeta landed a punch near his shoulder and the pain spread all the way through his pectoral, he knew that _this_ was at least partly what he had come for. He pushed this thought forcefully into the back of his mind where it had come from. This was _not_ the time for his depraved little masochistic self, especially not around Vegeta of all people.

His distraction earned him a cuff to the head that made his teeth rattle painfully.

“What's the matter?” the older Saiyan taunted, aiming a roundhouse kick to his side. “Forgotten how to do this?”

Apparently he had, because the kick sent him flying towards the ground and he crashed into a not-so-soft rock. He groaned, lying still for a moment to gauge whether his opponent was preparing another attack. Vegeta seemed to be feeling generous, though, and gave him a moment's respite.

Moaning slightly, Gohan got up stiffly. Nothing seemed to be broken. He rolled his left shoulder back and winced as the muscle burned sharply. His side was sore too where the kick had hit.

With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath and a smile slowly stretched across his face.

This was _fun_.

He had almost forgotten that it could be.

“Right.” Stretching his limbs and cracking a few joints, he looked up at Vegeta, “Let's get started for real.”

Vegeta's smirk told him he knew exactly how Gohan was feeling at the moment. “As you wish.”

The Saiyan prince was behind him before he could even react, and he took a swiping kick to the back of his knees, making them give way. He fell to the ground backwards, but he was prepared for the attack coming from right ahead, and he fired a blast straight up into the air that hit Vegeta before he could reach him.

Getting his knees back under control, Gohan launched himself into the air as well. His blast had distracted Vegeta, and he managed to get a right hook in under his chin.

During the next half an hour, Gohan slowly relearned many forgotten things. Vegeta was definitely a better sparring partner than Goten and Trunks, who simply dished out ki blasts and random kicks and punches with a lot of enthusiasm and a lot less thought behind it. Vegeta, Gohan reflected, Vegeta did not take sparring as a real fight _or_ an opportunity to beat someone up. He wanted the chance to improve his own tactics and style, bit by bit, punch by punch, constantly getting better.

And, of course, Gohan thought with an inward sigh as he watched Vegeta yell to power up further, small rocks cracking in the vicinity, he wanted to _show off_.

That part at least was working well.

No longer afraid Vegeta might accidentally kill him – Vegeta was actually very careful in that respect, taking Gohan's pathetically low power level into consideration – Gohan was mentally relaxing. Instead of worrying, he began to rely on his instincts. He acted, he reacted, and he _watched_. Vegeta was taunting him, drawing him out, testing his abilities. Whenever Gohan thought he had made a good move, Vegeta turned around to show him who the stronger one was. It was almost impossible for him to get a blow in. And yet, somehow, he didn't feel humiliated.

Or maybe he did, and he liked it.

He had received many blows and kicks and probably developed some injuries that a simple ice pack wouldn't heal. He was bleeding from several cuts and he strongly suspected something in his left foot had broken.

But Gohan didn't mind the pain and his mood kept constantly improving as he watched Vegeta move with all the grace only a saiyan warrior in his prime could muster. The adrenaline from the fight was coursing through his veins, the ascension to super saiyan having rendered everything non-physical unimportant.

Unfortunately, his enjoyment _showed_.

It had always been like this, fighting. And the fact that it was Vegeta, gorgeous, dangerous Vegeta, made it a lot worse.

His excitement grew with every blast, punch and kick. He hoped desperately that Vegeta was too preoccupied to notice his erection. Gohan had often mentally thanked his father and Piccolo for the designs of their outfits – light, airy, but most importantly _loose_ in certain places. For a fleeting second, he wondered if they'd had the same problem he had, and the looseness was on purpose. But he quickly squashed that thought; he did not want to contemplate either his father or his mentor that way. Ew.

Anyway, Vegeta certainly didn't have that problem, Gohan pondered as he watched his sparring partner gather energy in his palms for a blast. You’d be able to see it if he had. His outfit was _so_ tight. He wondered whether it was difficult to pull on... and take off... Almost salivating at the thought of taking off Vegeta's clothes, he nearly forgot to dodge the energy blast.

Damn.

He blushed. Focus, Gohan, focus, he berated himself.

Oh, this had _so_ been a bad idea...

“Getting tired already?” Vegeta teased.

“You wish,” Gohan retorted because that was the only acceptable answer, although 'yes' would have been much closer to the truth.

Vegeta chuckled knowingly. “You need more practice,” he said. “But don't worry,” and he suddenly appeared behind Gohan and growled into his ear: “that's what I'm here for.” And he knocked Gohan towards the ground with such force that Gohan hit the earth without a chance to cushion his fall.

He turned around hastily to fire a blast upwards – but Vegeta was on top of him already and casually pinned his hands to the ground.

So there he was, lying flat on his back, helpless, aroused, in pain, with Vegeta's delicious body hovering over him. He wondered briefly if he was actually sleeping and would wake up any moment. This was too much like an erotic fantasy to be happening in the real world. In any case, he would jerk off to this memory for months.

Vegeta rolled his eyes at Gohan's passiveness as he wasn't even attempting to move. “Too easy,” he commented.

Gohan flushed with shame. Yes, he was.

“Fine,” the prince growled. “I'm going to let you up and give you another try.”

He sat up on his heels, probably about to give the younger man a hand, but then surprise flashed across his face, and he grinned.

His eyes very purposefully looked down at Gohan's crotch, and then back up to his face.

 _If only mortification was fatal_ , Gohan thought longingly, _I'd be out of my misery right about now_.

“Turned on by fighting, are we?” Vegeta purred silkily, his amusement obvious. He leaned back down. “You're more Saiyan than I thought, kid.”

The deep voice only fueled Gohan's excitement and he could barely suppress a groan. He could not, however, stop his cock from swelling further at Vegeta's words and proximity. Vegeta's eyebrows rose.

Gohan looked away. He wished Vegeta would just get up and let him go so he could fly home. Or shoot himself.

“Now, what are we going to do about that?” Vegeta muttered softly, the grin showing in his voice even if Gohan couldn't see it.

“Nothing,” he spat. “Just let me go.”

As an answer, Vegeta pressed his thigh firmly against the younger man's groin. Gohan forgot how to breathe. Was this...? Could it be...? He groaned loudly at the thought of what Vegeta might do if he _didn't_ get up.

But then, Vegeta shrugged and shifted so that their bodies were no longer pressed together. “All right. I'll let you go.”

Gohan whined.

Vegeta reached for his head and turned it so he was facing him again. For a moment, they looked at each other. Gohan's heart was hammering. When Vegeta's lower body shifted again, he inhaled sharply.

“Please,” Gohan gasped.

“Please what?” Vegeta said slowly, enunciating each syllable.

“Please, my prince,” he answered promptly without thinking. The moment he had said it, he blushed furiously. Fantasies were one thing, but actually saying _that_ out loud...

Vegeta stilled for a moment. Then he smirked. “Not quite what I was going for, but okay.”

His right hand slowly trailed up Gohan's leg. By the time it was past his knee, Gohan was ready to moan out loud with every breath. He just couldn't turn off the thought that this was _Vegeta_ doing that. Not Videl. Doing _that_.

When Vegeta's hand reached his groin and squeezed him lightly through his loose pants, Gohan gasped dizzily. “It's natural, you know,” the dark voice said calmly somewhere above him while his brain was melting, “arousal during fighting. It gets our blood pumping. For saiyans, sex and power are connected very...” he squeezed again, “intimately.”

“ _You_ didn't react this way,” Gohan mumbled with embarrassment. Because _of course_ he had looked there constantly during their fight.

Vegeta chuckled. Leaning down, he nibbled along the side of Gohan's neck. “You think?” he said quietly into his ear. “Want to remove my cup and check?”

 _Cup_. Oh. That explained it.

Realizing that he had just received permission to touch the other man, Gohan lifted his hands from the ground, where they had been helplessly fisting the soil and crushing small rocks, and carefully placed them on Vegeta's hips.

Summoning all his courage, he slid his right hand around to the front. Vegeta's groin was radiating a great amount of heat.

There _was_ a cup there, of some unfamiliar material, firm and yielding at the same time. Gohan instantly wished _he_ had something like that to hide unwanted erections in public.

He gulped and gently started kneading.

And Vegeta _purred_. Like a cat, a low rumbling somewhere down in his chest. The sound was so unexpected that Gohan forgot what he was doing for a moment. Vegeta chuckled when he stilled. “Saiyan thing,” he said, “can't help it.”

“Can _I_ do that?” Gohan said excitedly, immediately berating himself for sounding like a ten-year-old. Or like his father.

“You'd probably know it by now if you could,” Vegeta said with a hint of impatience. “Now get a move on.”

“Or what?” Gohan asked before he could help himself.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “Hm,” he said. “I could think of a hundred ways to punish you. Make you do what I want.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gohan whispered. He wasn't sure how to convey what he needed. He also wasn't sure why he was so certain Vegeta could deliver it, but somehow Gohan knew he could.

“Huh,” Vegeta said, sounding pleasantly surprised. His hand experimentally crept up to Gohan's throat, closing around it gently. It didn't hurt yet, but it was an obvious threat.

Gohan's mouth twitched with the beginning of a smile.

“Oh, _that's_ how it is,” Vegeta said suddenly, and his demeanor changed in an instant, the unusually open expression on his face replaced by a characteristic smirk. “I see... the upstanding family father wants to be shown who's boss, yes?”

Gohan swallowed heavily. “Yes,” he said, his eyes closing in defeat.

“Yes, what?” Vegeta hissed and the hand around his throat tightened.

“Yes, my prince,” Gohan half gasped, half gurgled.

“Hmm,” Vegeta said, obviously pleased. “Good.” He squeezed tightly again for a moment, then removed his hand to slap the younger man hard across the face. Gohan groaned, sixty percent lust and forty percent pain.

_God, yes. This was exactly what…-_

Vegeta's armored boot crushed the fingers of his left hand and he howled in surprise. Looking up, he saw the prince standing above him and observing him with a questioning expression. Panting hard from the pain, Gohan hesitated for only a second. Then he nodded. This wasn’t cheating, was it?

Vegeta's lips quirked up.

“I should have known,” the older man said almost conversationally as he strode around Gohan's supine body to reach his head. “It's always the quiet ones who are the most fucked up. Come here, then,” and he grasped a strand of hair and pulled Gohan over to a grassy slope nearby.

Gohan's eyes filled with tears in an uncontrollable physical reaction to the pain. The burning along his scalp was excruciating. His clothes ripped apart as his body was dragged over the rocky ground. Thankfully, his Saiyan skin didn't break as easily as the fabric did.

Vegeta dropped his hold, and Gohan's head collided painfully with a rock beneath it. He gasped along with the cracking noise of the stone as it broke apart.

Vegeta came to stand above him once again, folding his arms in a characteristic gesture and regarding him thoughtfully, his head cocked to one side. “You're still enjoying yourself, if that tent in your pants is anything to go by,” he said, sounding slightly amused. “Good.”

Gohan coughed nervously and looked away, but he couldn't exactly deny that fact. The roots of his hair stung terribly but he didn't dare bring a hand up to massage his scalp – not without permission. Besides, one of his hands was useless now. His nervous system was still sending alarm signals from the broken finger bones up to his brain. Well, it was nothing a senzu couldn't fix. Besides, the rush he felt from the pain was simply exhilarating. It made him forget anything other than his own body and the body beside his.

Vegeta looked around slowly, his hair billowing in the wind. He sniffed. “This seems as good a place as any to ram my cock down your throat.”

Gohan groaned and closed his eyes involuntarily. The _thought_... he had never actually given a blowjob, but he had fantasized about it for most of his life. And serving his prince gave the act an appealing additional dimension.

He sat up.

“Did I say you could sit?” Vegeta snapped. “Stay down.”

“Sorry,” Gohan said quickly, lowering himself back onto the ground.

“Shut up,” Vegeta said in a bored tone.

Gohan watched nervously as the prince stalked closer, raised one heavy boot _very_ slowly across his chest – the implied threat of it stomping down any second to crush his ribcage a teasing possibility - and lowered it on the other side of Gohan's body to stand towering above him, looking down at his servant lying supine on the ground in an image of utter surrender.

Then the prince knelt to sit on his haunches. His crotch was right above Gohan's upper body.

His heart hammered in his chest as Vegeta casually reached into a previously invisible opening of his outfit, pulled out a soft-looking shell of a groin cup and carelessly put it aside on the ground. Then he reached back in to extract his cock.

As humiliating as it was, Gohan was practically salivating.

*****

  
  


Vegeta regarded the boy below him carefully. It had been many years since anyone had looked at his cock with lust, and the thrill was undeniable. Especially since it was such an unexpected pleasure – he _had_ only come here for sparring. He was slightly unsure how to go about this with no rules established. How far was he allowed to go? If he choked the young man with his cock, what would the repercussions be? Saiyan teeth were sharp...

However, the boy had taken every bit of abuse so far with startling enthusiasm. Crushing Gohan's hand had been a whim, and the reaction Vegeta had received could hardly have been more pleasing. Surely he could deal with a cock down his throat.

He shuffled forward further, grinning at the way the boy's eyes practically crossed as he kept them fixed on his genitals getting closer.

“Open up,” he said casually and was pleased by Gohan's jaw immediately dropping open in wanton invitation, though his enthusiasm was no longer surprising. The boy was clearly eager and willing. No wonder, Vegeta thought. He'd probably never been fucked by anyone matching his own strength.

Well, he'd get the time of his life, then.

Vegeta leaned forward and maneuvered the tip of his cock between that open pair of lips. He swallowed heavily and closed his eyes for a second to keep from making a sound. He might not be as desperate for it as the cock-hungry slut below him, but it _had_ been a long while since he had done any of this and the sparring had excited him too. Sinking his cock into a wet, warm orifice was heavenly.

Gohan mewled. Spit was dribbling out of either side of his mouth.

Vegeta rolled his hips, pushing himself deeper, and again had to keep himself from making a sound of pleasure.

Gohan's head moved up, following him when he pulled back. What the hell was the boy doing? He rammed his cock back down to make things clear, and Gohan gagged and spluttered. Pulling out quickly before he got puked on or something, Vegeta groaned in frustration as the other was wheezing for air.

“Okay, let's try this again,” Vegeta growled when he seemed to have his breath back.

He leaned forward, pushing his cock back down into the boy's throat. This time, the other lay mercifully still. Only a gurgling sound and more drooling spit escaped his mouth.

_Pathetic._

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He rocked forwards and backwards a few times, trying to set a tentative rhythm. He couldn't push very deeply at this angle, though, since the boy annoyingly insisted on gagging any time he pushed just a little bit too far. It was clear that he lacked experience.

Pity, because he looked pretty good with a cock rammed down his throat like that.

Vegeta frowned at the stray thought.

This was a _kid_ , he wasn't _hot._ Or... how old was Gohan again?

Old enough for _this_ , apparently.

At that moment, he felt the unmistakable scratch of teeth and hissed warningly. Gohan gurgled something that might have been “sorry”, making Vegeta roll his eyes again.

A telltale sound from behind his back told him Gohan was using his unbroken hand to touch himself.

Fine, whatever. _That_ cock was not Vegeta's primary concern right now. It was his own that was frustrating him, caught in a tantalizing zone between constant stimulation and clearly-not-good-enough. There was no way he could reach even the least satisfying orgasm from this stupid rocking.

He was about to pull out completely when the boy's sounds suddenly reached another octave. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was getting close.

_Great..._

Gohan tried to push Vegeta off, no doubt trying to get some air into his lungs now he was on the brink of orgasm.

Vegeta grinned maliciously.

“No,” he said. “You wanted cock, you're getting cock. If you insist on coming, let's see you deal with it.”

Gohan groaned.

Stuck with Vegeta's cock in his mouth, he had to resort to breathing very harshly through his nose, clearly on the brink of hyperventilating. His eyes were wide. Just in case, the prince kept a close watch on him – accidentally suffocating his rival's son wasn't something he was keen on.

Mewling and whining more and more loudly around his mouthful of cock, Gohan thrashed about as much as he could.

Exasperated and not willing to endure this much longer, Vegeta reached behind himself and blindly searched for Gohan's hand. Not the one currently fisting his cock like there was no tomorrow, of course. The broken one. It was time to test how he liked _actual_ pain.

Vegeta found what he was looking for and pressed the heel of his palm into the broken bones of the crushed hand. Gohan howled and immediately tensed with his eyes squeezed shut. Vegeta could almost _feel_ him coming convulsively, his noises and movements were so intense.

He generously granted him ten or fifteen seconds of bliss. At least one of them was enjoying himself. Then he slipped out of Gohan's mouth with a grunt of frustration. Gohan immediately gasped for air like a fish out of water, closing and reopening his mouth a few times to relax his probably painfully tense jaw muscles.

“If you're quite finished,” Vegeta said dryly.

“Yes,” Gohan said, still spluttering, but a blissful grin slowly spread across his face. “Yes, I am.”

“Good for you,” Vegeta said irritably. His hand was still on his erection but he refused to give in to the maddening urge to tug on it. He didn't want to show the kid how much he needed it – but he did have to get his point across somehow.

“Sorry,” Gohan blurted out. “I know it wasn't... sorry. Let me... what can I do?”

Vegeta tsked. “If your mouth is no good, how about your hand? Seemed to be good enough for you.”

_Just get a fucking move on._

“Right,” Gohan said brightly. “Yeah.”

He reached out with his unbroken hand, Vegeta scooting backwards to give him better access.

This arrangement worked better than the last one. Mercifully, Gohan didn't waste any time teasing him – maybe he could guess there would be painful retaliation in store for him if he did. And though he seemed to need half a minute to get used to the angle, he was surprisingly talented once he had.

The boy's hand felt great, alternating between gentle and forceful in _just_ the right way, and exerting a good amount of pressure on his flesh.

“This okay?” Gohan asked carefully.

Vegeta didn't trust his voice at this point, and simply nodded, not looking down at him.

When he did glance over a few seconds later, the boy's grin had widened. The approval seemed to have spurred him on.

His speed increased to a definitely superhuman level.

And if this hadn't been good enough (which it _was_ , Vegeta was hanging on by sheer willpower now), Gohan's hand suddenly flared blue.

Vegeta was dimly aware that he was moaning like a whore, but he was utterly incapable of stopping it now.

Charged with ki, the fingers were warmer and somehow... fizzing, like sparkling water or gentle electrity.

Vegeta fleetingly wondered whether the boy pleasured himself like this. Probably. It had to be taking an impressive degree of ki control.

It was effective, though, and his reluctant awe at Gohan's ki control was more or less his last coherent thought before he tumbled over helplessly into bliss, crushing small rocks under his fingers and sagging half sideways. With his last shreds of self discipline, he managed to not mewl _too_ pathetically.

Annoyingly, Gohan kept his eyes on Vegeta's face almost the whole time, as though he was enjoying the signs of weakness he was showing there.

To punish him for this insolence, Vegeta slapped him hard across the cheek before he had even completely regained his breath. Looking at the ground nearby, the prince wiped his brow and got up. Settling his facial expression into smooth blankness, he trailed his hands down his own body to right his clothes. His skin felt flushed with the heat of orgasm, but apart from that, he was probably in a decent state.

Not so his opponent.

He glanced down at Gohan who had yet made no attempts to move. His hand, crushed twice, looked positively nasty. His clothes were ripped and torn and could no longer hide the multiple cuts and bruises underneath. His skin was a mosaic of green and purple already – with red highlighting. Vegeta smirked. It was always immensely gratifying to see the havoc he had wreaked on someone's body.

“Get your wife to help you clean up,” he said.

Then he took off without looking back.

Only after he was definitely out of the boy's sight, a few loop-de-loops celebrated the end of a spar that had been surprisingly satisfying.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

_featuring: a cold bath and romantic advice from the least romantic person on the planet_

  
  


Panic settled in deep in his gut. Gohan was not easily afraid, not after the way he had grown up between regular battles for his life and the safety of his loved ones, but right now his heart was trying to claw its way out of his chest, and he was breaking out in cold sweat everywhere.

What had he _done?_

He was a married man, a happily married man with a wonderful wife and a wonderful daughter, and he had gone and practically begged for an older man to... take him.

How would he live with himself now?

How would Videl live with him now?

Kami, he would never be able to look Pan in the eye again... at the thought of his daughter, a large lump rose in his throat.

_Oh no..._

He had tried so hard to be _good_ , a good _father_ , a good _husband_. But his vigorously suppressed demons had come back and taken control of him, and he hadn't resisted _at all._

This sort of thing was reserved for private fantasies and had no business being _real_.

Now what?

He needed help.

He needed to talk to someone.

He needed...

„Piccolo?“ he spoke cautiously into the empty air in front of him.

„Yes,“ a deep voice answered in his head after just a few seconds.

„Could... could you meet me? I need your help.“

Even without receiving a verbal answer, Gohan knew his friend was on his way towards his ki. He loved Piccolo fiercely for this, loved that there had to be no explanations, Piccolo would come for him whenever he needed him, and he would huff and tsk about it but he would help him, no matter what. He had always been there for him. His thoughts drifted to his father – the kindest and most forgiving person he could think of, and yet Gohan knew instinctively that even if Goku were in this world right now, he would still have called for Piccolo. The former devil.

He sat down heavily on the rock he'd been standing on and stared morosely into the waterfall he had flown to. He knew he should take a bath and get cleaned, at least, but he couldn't muster the necessary energy. He’d barely managed to swallow a senzu. Now he just felt like crying. How would he ever, _ever_ explain _this_ to his wife?

After a while, he could sense Piccolo approaching. He landed next to Gohan with a light tap of his soft shoes on the rock. Taking in Gohan's ripped and torn clothes, the traces of blood and his utterly miserable expression, Piccolo frowned. „What did he do to you?“

„Um,“ Gohan blushed, unsure how to answer.

Then Piccolo sniffed the air, and his eyes widened. He groaned. Gohan winced with the mortification he felt and refused to meet his friend's eyes.

There was silence for a few moments.

„Why?“ Piccolo asked softly.

Gohan closed his eyes as his throat tightened and the corners of his eyes began to burn. He shrugged helplessly. All he could do was stare at the ground.

Piccolo huffed.

A moment later, Gohan yelped as he was lifted into the air without a warning and dropped into the pool of cold water. Gasping and spluttering, he broke the surface.

“Better?” Piccolo asked, standing at the edge of the pool with his arms crossed in front of his chest and one eyebrow raised.

Gohan couldn't suppress a grin. “A little,” he sighed, picking some sort of water plant out of his hair. Treading water, he stripped off the shreds of his useless clothes. While he quickly scrubbed his body to get rid of the smells of sex, sweat and blood, Piccolo stood with his head raised, his eyes gazing into the forest, apparently deep in thought.

Naked, Gohan levitated out of the water and quickly flared his ki to dry himself. “Could you magic me new clothes, please?”

“What were you wearing? It should be the same as it was when you left home, I assume.”

“Um,” Gohan grinned sheepishly. “Your style.”

“Hn,” was Piccolo's only answer, but Gohan could tell that he was pleased at this small tribute to their connection.

“Is this all right?” A dark purple gi, complete with sash and orange moccasins, appeared on Gohan's body out of nowhere.

“Perfect,” he exclaimed, “thank you!” He twisted and turned a little. The new gi was better than his old one had been, and it fit perfectly.

“The smell should be gone now, too,” Piccolo said. “At least to a human nose.”

Gohan's face fell again. Both of them knew exactly which human's nose had to be fooled, and that brought his thoughts back to the current situation. Dropping to the ground again, he hid his face in his hands. “What have I _done?_ ” he moaned.

“I don't know,” Piccolo said. “What _have_ you done?” It was said without reproach or even curiosity. Piccolo had this way of speaking that was like a mirror, his voice simply an echo of Gohan's own thoughts. Sometimes when they meditated together, he wasn't sure whether he was debating something with himself or whether his old friend had subtly invaded his mind to guide him through his thought process, as he had often done when Gohan was younger. He never minded.

He breathed a heavy sigh. “I... kind of had sex with Vegeta.”

Piccolo was silent.

“I didn't mean to,” Gohan quickly assured him and himself. “It just _happened_.”

“Ah.”

Gohan wasn't sure how much the asexual being actually knew about the practicalities of sex, and how he could explain to someone like Piccolo that sex could “just happen”.

“Did he force you?” Piccolo asked.

Gohan blinked. “No!” The thought seemed absurd to him. Probably more absurd than it should have, all things considered. “No! I... participated,” he mumbled. “But I _really_ didn't mean to,” he repeated defensively, fighting the rising panic in his head. “Honestly!”

“Right,” Piccolo said, no emotion detectable in his face or voice.

Gohan looked at him like a lost child, trying to search his friend's face for advice. “I don't know what to do,” he whispered.

Piccolo sighed and his gaze softened a little bit. “Are you asking _me_ what to do?”

Gohan nodded eagerly. “What do I say to Videl? How do I explain this?” he said desperately.

“Gohan, that isn't really my forte.”

“Please,” Gohan begged. “I _really_ need help.”

Piccolo sighed. “Was it a mistake?”

“Yes!”

“Is it going to happen again?”

“No!”

“Do you regret it?”

Gohan hesitated.

“Do you regret it,” Piccolo repeated calmly.

Gohan closed his eyes. “I regret cheating on my wife,” he said truthfully.

“Hm,” Piccolo said. After a pause, he stated, “I don't think you should tell her at all.”

Gohan frowned. “I can't keep something like this from her! I don't want to have secrets... shouldn't a marriage be built on honesty and trust and all that?”

Piccolo shrugged. “As I said, it's not my forte. And also none of my business. It's your decision. It just seems to me that you would hurt her by telling her, and other than that it would hardly accomplish anything. The only good it would do is satisfy your conscience. That may not be worth the pain you cause her.”

Gohan was silent for a moment. Then he softly said, “Thanks, Piccolo.”

The Namekian snorted. “I'm not absolving you of your sins. Or saving your marriage. If you go around having sex with other people, I can't help you.”

“I don't go...-” Gohan protested immediately. He had never slept with anyone else! And he wasn't going to do it again!

“Good,” Piccolo interrupted him. “Keep it that way.”

He turned to go, leaving Gohan standing there with a dejected look on his face. After a few steps, his head turned. He gave Gohan a rare, small smile. “Cheer up. It's not the end of the world.” And with those words, he took off and soon turned into a small speck of green against the white sky, moving off towards the horizon.

*****

  
  


Bulma prayed for a second, flicked the switch, waited with bated breath – and scowled when the little device in front of her whirred loudly and went up in a puff of smoke.

_Great_.

Minor detonations were a common occurrence at Capsule Corp, but Bulma had been working on the spatial stabilizer for months, and had really hoped to be getting somewhere with it by now. Without this key part to it, the usable time machine she was trying to build would never work.

Well, not without stranding in space in the exact place the Earth would have been in the moment in time it had just left – not in the moment it had just entered. Would have just entered. If it worked. Which it wouldn't.

Why was it so difficult to simply factor in the movement of the solar system through the milky way, if she had already managed Earth's rotation and its movement through the solar system?

It couldn't be _that_ hard if her other self had found a way. _That_ Bulma had apparently found a way to work around spatial stabilization, in a desolate post-apocalyptic wasteland without proper resources, and all while practically being on the run. _That_ Bulma must have been a true genius.

Stupid bitch.

Bulma laughed at the absurdity of that particular thought.

The door opened. “You're cheerful,” Vegeta remarked with a frown. “What happened? Did your... spatial thing finally work?”

“No,” she said brightly. “But I'll get there. Can't let _myself_ beat me.”

She wiped her hands on a nearby cloth and unceremoniously swiped the pieces of the broken device into the recycling can whose contents would later be checked by a robot to filter out usable parts, cables and rare metals.

“Where have you been?” She asked. Vegeta had been out for hours, and this was an unusual time for him to be anywhere outside the gravity room. Wherever he’d been, it had done him good. He seemed less tense than he normally did.

“Out,” Vegeta said.

“Right,” she said, knowing better than to ask further. She might be curious, but Vegeta needed his own space more than anyone, and they had always respected each other's privacy. “Have you talked to Trunks about the towel incident?”

For years now, Trunks had brought a steady string of girls home to Capsule Corp, averaging two a week. She had always let him do whatever he wanted, he was old enough to be having a sex life. But lately, too many of those casual acquaintances had taken to leaving the confines of Trunks' rooms in... too little clothing. Bulma herself was tolerant enough and so was Vegeta, but Bra and Bulma's parents had to be taken into account. None of them would be amused at another “towel incident”.

Okay, Bra probably would be.

And that was exactly what Bulma was trying to avoid.

Vegeta growled. “I tried to beat some sense into him, but I wasn't sure it was working, so I suggesting beating some sense into the girl instead.”

Bulma giggled. “You wouldn't!”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Obviously not, woman.”

“But it did the trick?”

“He said he'd talk to her. I assumed that was the most promising statement I'd get out of him, so I let him go.”

“Good,” she said gratefully. “Thank you.”

Vegeta shrugged. The conversation finished, he left without another word.

Bulma turned to the shelf on the wall, rubbing her hands. “Right,” she muttered brightly. “Let's give the spatial stabilizer another go, shall we?”

  
  


  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_featuring: the (questionable) joys of friendship and the (questionable) joys of fatherhood_

  
  


“Honey, you look terrible,” Simon said, setting down his tray next to where George's head could be expected underneath his forearms, “and I mean that in the most loving and affectionate way.”

George mumbled something that sounded like “Go buck an elf,” but probably wasn't.

“You should eat something,” Annette advised him gently.

“Right,” George said, lifting his head and looking up at the three blearily. “Yeah, I know I should. Skipped breakfast already.” He passed a hand over his eyes and yawned widely. “If I had known that getting divorced was this exhausting, I'd never have gotten married. What's for lunch today?”

“Vegetable curry or pork chops,” Annette replied.

“I'll go get you some curry,” Simon announced promptly, and moved away quickly through the crowd to join the queue in their cafeteria for a second time.

George groaned. “Great. Tells me I look terrible and won't even let me have the meat to make up for it.”

Annette chuckled. “He just wants you to eat healthy. He cares about you, sweetie that he is. And you know,” she added with a grin, “if you're planning to go back on the prowl some day soon, you might want to do something about that belly.”

“It's just insult after insult with you guys today, isn't it?” George complained in mock offense. “I don't know why I'm even friends with you. Gohan, why are we friends with them?”

“Hm?” Gohan said, looking up from his barely touched bowl of curry. “Sorry, I wasn't really listening,” he grinned sheepishly. He had been at least half-listening, but he was in no mood for playful banter. The events of the previous day were all he could think about. He just wanted to go back to his quiet office and think in peace. But lunch with his friends was a routine – and he had hoped it might distract him.

“One order of veggie curry,” Simon announced, placing the bowl in front of George with a completely unnecessary flourish. “Enjoy.”

“Simon, do you think George should lose some weight?” Annette asked him in a mock serious tone.

“Hmm,” Simon pursed his lips and regarded the middle-aged man thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think he could do practically anything as long as he keeps this new five-o'clock-shadow of his. Really suits him.”

“Pfft,” George said and started on his curry without enthusiasm.

“So, Gohan,” Simon said, sitting down next to Annette. “Now that we've practically cured one of our patients, what can therapists Simon and Annette do for you?”

Gohan smiled against his will. “I'm fine,” he waved a hand, “just... distracted, that's all.”

“By something in particular?” Annette asked.

“By something interesting?” Simon added, earning himself a playful swat on his arm from the woman and a snort of laughter from George.

“You should eat, though,” Annette stated seriously. “We can't order George to do it and then let you off the hook. You'll be starving before dinner.”

Gohan sighed. Like his relatives, he had the stomach of a Saiyan with characteristics shared by many of the predatory animal species on earth – as long as he ate large batches of food from time to time, he was fine in between. He didn't necessarily need the regular three meals a day humans had. His daily lunch with George, Annette and Simon in the university's cafeteria was mainly a fun habit for him. As if one bowl of curry could fill his stomach anyways. Videl would have a huge amount of food ready for him when he got home.

At the thought of Videl, his stomach clenched uncomfortably. The guilt had been gnawing at his insides all day. There she was, probably spending hours on cooking meals for him, and he had _cheated_ on her.

When he’d come home the day before, he had immediately taken a hot shower and then proceeded to carefully avoid his wife and daughter for the rest of the evening. He didn’t think Videl had noticed anything – but that didn’t mean _he_ could just forget what had happened.

“You look a little sick,” Simon said. “Seriously, honey, is everything all right?”

“Ah, leave him alone,” George said and Gohan was immediately thankful. “You can play therapist some other time.” Turning to Gohan, he added: “Now eat.”

Obediently, and with a small grin, Gohan dunked his spoon into the curry.

Lunch with his friends was making him feel a little better, after all.

******

  
  


Pan glanced up from her third page of maths homework to see her dad walk in the door.

She had sensed his approach for a few minutes already, especially because he had been flying more slowly than usual. Maybe he wanted to enjoy the nice weather.

“Hello”, Dad said. He looked as kind as always but a little bit tired.

“Hi,” Pan said.

After putting down his briefcase and taking off his shoes, he came over to where she was sitting at the living room table. “Homework?” he said smiling. “It's Friday, can't it wait until tomorrow?”

She grimaced. “Mom made me,” she said sullenly. “She said I could either help her in the garden or do my homework.”

“And you opted for homework?” Dad said.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, surprised that he didn't see the logic in this. “I'm gonna have to do my homework _eventually_ , right? So if I work on this now, I don't have to do it later. If I help Mom now, I'll still have to do homework later. So I'll work two times. Now I only work one time.”

Dad's smile grew and he ruffled her hair (which she _hated_ , when would he ever stop _doing_ that?). “You'll grow up to be a great scientist one day,” he told her before he turned away and to the kitchen.

Pan pouted.

She didn't like it when he said things like that. Somehow, her dad expected her to grow up to be a scientist like him. It wasn't like that being a scientist was bad. She _was_ interested in science... but couldn't all humans become scientists? Shouldn't she do something different where she could use her special powers better?

Putting her head in her hand, her thoughts drifted off.

She wanted to be a fighter.

Maybe.

Pan loved fighting. She and her best friend Bra had always sparred together since they'd been little, and for about a year now Pan had been allowed to train with her and her dad. She had to keep that a secret from her parents, though. She had a feeling Dad wouldn't like her fighting so much, and Mom would tell her that Vegeta was “not a good influence”, whatever that meant. She always said it.

But Pan loved it. She tried to train a little bit every day even when she couldn't go to Capsule Corp.

Bra loved sparring too and said she would definitely be a warrior when she grew up, just like her dad.

Pan thought about that a lot. Spending every day fighting sounded like a lot of fun, but.... she only knew three real fighters: Grandpa Satan, Vegeta and Piccolo. And none of their lives was perfect, exactly.

Grandpa Satan spent very little of his time actually fighting. Most of the time he was either lounging around his house (which was way too boring for her), telling people with cameras why he was the strongest (which Pan would probably be too shy to do) or cutting ribbons when a building was opened somewhere (couldn't they get other people to do that? Did that have to be done by fighters?). That wasn't really the life Pan wanted in the future.

On the other hand, Vegeta did train most of the day, but that didn't seem to make him happy. Most of the time, he was just grumpy. There was no point in doing something for hours and hours if it didn't at least cheer you up a little, right?

And Piccolo spent every day alone in the desert, and although he did train (according to Dad), that training seemed to involve a lot of floating around with closed eyes and doing nothing. And that was definitely too boring. And too lonely.

Pan had always thought you could be both, warrior and normal person, at the same time. Like her parents. But apparently it wasn’t so easy if her dad could be defeated by Trunks and Goten because he didn’t have enough time to train and fight next to his job… That had been disappointing… It seemed like you did have to choose after all.

So this was a dilemma (one of Dad's favorite words). She wanted to be a fighter because she loved fighting, but was that actually a good idea?

And even if she made that choice – would her parents accept that?

She was glad she still had ages to go before she was grown up and had to make decisions like that. For now, she mainly had to do her homework.

Dad stuck his head back through the living room door. “I thought we could all go out for pizza after dinner tonight, what do you think?”

She beamed at him. “Yes!”

Now _that_ brightened up the plan for the rest of the day. With new energy and focus, she applied herself to her homework, determined to finish it in record time.

A sheet of multiplying fractions was no match for Son Pan, future warrior.

Or scientist.

Whichever.

  
  


******

“Hiyaa!” Vegeta fired a ki blast at his son who, unable to dodge it, went flying into the steely wall of the gravity room.

Vegeta growled angrily. “How did you not _block_ that?” He demanded as Trunks got to his feet with a series of groans. “I taught you that move _weeks_ ago, have you learned _nothing_?!” he spat.

“So what?” Trunks asked with a half-shrug as he slowly got back into a fighting stance. “You're the only one who uses that technique, why do I have to be able to block it? It's not like I'm ever gonna fight you for real.”

“I'm the only one _you know of_ who uses that technique,” Vegeta corrected him. “An enemy might very well use it one day, or use a technique much like it. It's always better to be prepared.”

Trunks waved a hand in nonchalance. “We don't exactly have a lot of enemies these days.”

Vegeta's eyes widened at that display of complacence. “We always have enemies,” he hissed. “They may not have found us yet, but I assure you...-”

“Dad, calm _down,_ ” Trunks groaned. “All that drama, seriously...”

The prince would have been speechless if not for the fact that they had conversations like this one at ever more frequent intervals. They clearly no longer saw eye to eye on the potential dangers the world might hold. At some point in time, his son seemed to have discarded the idea of being a warrior in favor of being a lazy brat who saw fighting as entertainment only.

Even Gohan had been different.

He frowned at his stray thought, but it was true. It had been refreshing to spar with someone who took the challenge more seriously.

“So,” Trunks grinned, “ready for the next round?”

“You bet,” he replied tersely, but it felt stale.

Fighting Trunks held little excitement these days. His techniques and style had not changed, let alone improved, for at least the past five years. Vegeta, who was always looking for the next hurdle to overcome, the next tweak to his own style, the next idea to add to his repertoire, was bored out of his skull with such a robotic sparring partner.

He missed Kakarott terribly.

For the first year after the other Saiyan had left for Otherworld, Vegeta had alternated between considering giving up training altogether because it suddenly seemed so pointless, and beating Trunks and Goten into miserable heaps in an attempt to turn them into passable sparring partners.

Neither method had worked.

Over time, he had gotten used to the lack of people to train with. He had adapted. Nowadays, he either trained by himself or sparred to teach – Bra, Pan, Trunks and Goten. He had come to think of the boys as something of a lost cause but well, he had to make do with what he got.

Trunks' fist swiped at his nose for the fifth time that day, and missed for the fifth.

He swept it aside with his right hand and used the opening to bury his own fist in Trunks' face, for the fifth time.

Dull.

Dull, dull, _dull_.

His thoughts strayed to Kakarott's older brat again.

Sparring with him had been a very welcome change to the routine, better than he had expected. The sex, of course, had been a bonus. The kid had grown into an attractive young man – at least once he lost all those layers of human clothing and human demeanor. It had been exhilarating to be desired again, and he had enjoyed the show of dominance immensely. A shame that parts of it had been so underwhelming, though the finale had definitely made up for it.

But what he craved more deeply than anything else was a challenging opponent, especially to help him through his twitchier days. And Gohan had shown to be very promising in that respect. He was rusty, sure. Vegeta would never understand how he could have let his training slide for that long. It would take some time for him to regain his former power. But underneath that power level, his _attitude_ had been surprisingly... Kakarott-ish. He had been there to learn from him, and had actually given his best to improve minute by minute. Gohan was a real fighter – who would have thought?

Vegeta tried not to get his hopes up, but he could not help thinking that he might, finally, have found a suitable substitute for his nemesis.

Trunks surged towards him in an enthusiastic attack and he smacked him lazily across the cheek.

 _About time_ , he thought dully, and yawned as his son skidded across the floor.

_About fucking time._

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

_featuring: A traumatized tree and a probably just as traumatized Piccolo_

Over the course of the next week, Gohan somewhat recovered his sanity.

Still feeling insanely guilty whenever he thought of Vegeta, which was often, he nevertheless resolved to put the whole thing behind himself the way Piccolo had suggested.

It had been a mistake.

People made mistakes.

He had been caught up in sparring and his Saiyan instincts. He’d been alone with the man for whom he was nursing a practically life-long crush. It was understandable. Right?

It had happened, it was over, there was nothing he could do to undo what he had done. Of course it would never happen again. The most important thing now was to move on. He bought flowers for Videl. He held her in his arms when they were watching a movie on the couch after Pan had gone to bed. He slept with her, thrusting into her gently and carefully and keeping both his eyes and his brain focused on her and her alone.

It was all fine. It would be fine. It was fine.

The following Thursday, Gohan was absolutely baffled to sense Vegeta's ki leave Capsule Corp – marked on the geographic map in his brain by Trunks' and Bra's auras shining brightly. Vegeta moved purposefully but not hurriedly towards the place they had met the week before.

Gohan's heart jumped to his throat. Did that mean... what did that mean?

All right, they _had_ made a long-term arrangement to meet every Thursday, but Gohan had been sure that after the last time...

He was resolutely not going to meet him. No.

The ki stayed in that place for almost an hour, during which Gohan could barely concentrate on anything else.

When he finally sensed it moving back towards Capsule Corp, though, he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

*****

  
  


Another week went by.

Gohan was settling back into the comforting familiarity of routines and No-Saiyan-Sex. He still privately divided his recent biography into “before” and “after”, and his fantasies about being hurt by Vegeta were harder to suppress than ever before, but at least he no longer jumped every time he saw the Capsule Corp logo on an object or sensed Vegeta's ki from a distance. He made excuses not to drop by Capsule Corp for any reason and made a point of behaving excruciatingly normally when he was having lunch with his friends – Simon in particular was not easily put off the scent once he had caught a whiff of someone's personal drama.

He trained rigorously mornings and evenings. The workout was a welcome outlet for the buzzing restlessness he felt inside.

The itch to seek out the prince might be hard to ignore, but he could do that. He had, after all, spent half his life ignoring Saiyan itches.

All in all, he thought he was doing fine. Maybe, given another month or two, he could put this behind himself as a one-time madness. Or indulgence.

When Thursday came around again, he resolutely did _not_ check where Vegeta's ki was.

He came home in the early afternoon as usual, the weather was beautiful and Videl had made three entire strawberry cakes that the family was currently devouring on their patio, the sun glinting off their plates.

Life was good.

“Any plans for the weekend?” he asked his daughter cheerfully, helping himself to another slice.

Pan heaved a sigh. “Bra and I were gonna go dinosaur hunting on Saturday,” she said. “But now she got herself grounded for the weekend and we can't go.”

Videl tsked sympathetically. “What did she do?”

Pan shrugged. “Wouldn't tell me,” she said, apparently unperturbed. Gohan thought it might be better that way. While he wouldn't go as far as calling Bra a bad influence (she _did_ help get Pan out of her shell sometimes), she wasn't exactly a role model either, and the less Pan imitated her worse impulses the better. Thankfully, Pan was very sensible in that respect.

“How about you and I go dinosaur hunting instead?” he suggested. “That would take care of our dinner plans, too.”

Videl frowned at him. “You do remember we have that gala to go to in the evening, right?”

Gohan groaned. He had forgotten about that. “Do we _have_ to go?” he asked, turning pleading eyes at his wife. “ _Every_ year?”

“Yes,” she said curtly. “I'm his daughter, you know. I’m a board member of the Satan Foundation. I can't not be there.”

“You could be there without your husband,” Gohan pointed out hopefully.

Videl snorted. “No, thanks. I need you as moral support if I have to hang out with those boring crones all night.”

“It's not only the boring crones,” Gohan said. “It's the way they spend the entire night sucking up to Hercules. Worshipping his every word.” He shuddered.

His wife stared at him for a moment. “That bothers you.”

“Yes,” he said emphatically.

“Is this because you think they should be celebrating _you_ instead? The real hero who killed Cell?”

“Oh, come on,” Gohan said, genuinely offended. “Of course not. You know that!”

“Do I?” she said shrewdly. “Because every time the subject comes up, your hackles mysteriously rise.”

Pan seemed to be trying hard not to look at anyone. Gohan knew that she hated it when her parents had an argument, like every child did. But he had to make his point.

“Well, it isn't _fair_ ,” he insisted. “That he should get glory for a battle he didn't even fight!”

“I thought you didn't want the glory.”

“I don't,” Gohan maintained, though he tried not to probe too deep into that feeling, “but _he_ definitely shouldn't have it! He's the greatest coward on this planet!”

Videl's eyes narrowed. “Say that again.”

Gohan shrugged. “Fine. He's the greatest coward on this planet.” He didn't know what possessed him to be so blunt, but it was true. Hercules was certainly a likeable guy who gave generously and doted on Pan. Gohan had grown fond to him over the years. But the fact that he got most of his credit for the one thing he was terrible at was just not fair.

“Says the man who is scared to go to a gala because he might have to interact with _normal people_ for a change,” Videl hissed.

Gohan slammed his fists on the table, making Pan jump. The girl looked so distressed that he couldn't bear more than a fleeting glance at her. He knew he should calm his daughter down, but with this sickening rage coursing through his veins at the moment he was almost afraid to go near her. His hair had to be blond by now, he could feel it.

He stood abruptly, thinking a quick exit was the only option if he didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

“I’m going for a flight,” he said stiffly and took off without looking at his family.

  
  


*****

  
  


There was only one place he could think of going right now – and it _was_ Thursday, after all.

He streaked through the air at a pace he hadn't attempted for years.

“Come on,” he mumbled, senses focused on Vegeta's ki, currently stationary at Capsule Corp. “Come on, move...”

He didn't hope (couldn't hope!) for anything like what had happened the last time. But if he was lucky, he could get pushed around a bit.

It said something about how messed up he was that the mere thought of being _hurt_ again, of Vegeta breaking his bones and slashing his skin again, was the most tantalizing prospect on his mind in moments like this.

Eventually, that unsettlingly powerful ki stirred. It moved in Gohan's general direction slowly, almost lazily, like a dragon woken from sleep.

Gohan grinned triumphantly, his Saiyan instincts taking over for once, and sped up to clash with his opponent in mutual bloodlust.

They finally met in mid-air where Gohan immediately and enthusiastically aimed a punch right at Vegeta's cheek.

Surprisingly, it hit its target.

Very slowly, Vegeta's head turned from where the blow had carried it to look at Gohan, a deep frown over his glittering eyes and a menacing growl rising from his throat.

Gohan gulped, momentarily thrown. “Uh,” he said. “...sorry?”

Vegeta's knee rammed sharply into his stomach.

Gohan shouted in pain while his instincts roared in delight. His opponent had accepted the challenge. From his doubled-over position, still clutching his belly, he deftly flipped over forwards, rolling in mid-air to bring his feet down hard on Vegeta's shoulder.

Caught off guard, Vegeta dropped a few feet, only to fly back up at him a split second later, engaging Gohan in a series of quick blows he could barely block. Scrambling to raise his forearms and legs in the right moments, he risked a glance at Vegeta's face and was pleasantly surprised to see him grinning.

Gohan mentally sighed in relief. The prince wasn't actually angry then. He was enjoying himself.

Just like he was.

Man, but this was exactly what he had needed.

Although... his eyes strayed down along Vegeta's neck. Maybe not _exactly_ what he had needed. Or maybe only part of it.

And that was when a roundhouse kick caught his neck with a strength that would have snapped a human spine like a twig. His whole body spun uncontrollably, its momentum only stopped when Vegeta's fist connected sharply with his side a second later.

Dazed by the two rapid blows, Gohan wheezed and made no attempt at defending himself when his opponent came closer.

“So,” Vegeta purred, holding Gohan up by the collar. “Did you come here for a fight? Or for something else? Hm?”

Gohan swallowed, which turned out to be painful. “I came here for you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Vegeta seemed to consider him for a moment. Then he let go of Gohan's cuff. Gohan dropped a few feet before catching himself.

Vegeta rolled his eyes at him. “Pathetic.”

Gohan's stomach clenched with desire as he saw _why_ the other had let him go. He had taken his cock out of his pants and was touching himself languidly. “Come here,” Vegeta said silkily. Gohan levitated back up to eye level, thrilled by this turn of events.

Vegeta smirked. “Not that far.” With his unoccupied left hand, he pushed Gohan down again.

“Let's give this another try then. Suck it.”

So he did.

He had really, really not hoped for anything like this again – but well, he wasn’t exactly going to complain. And he wasn’t going to _think_ too hard, either.

Placing his hand atop Vegeta's, Gohan stroked the base a few times before lowering his mouth over the top half. Determined to do a better job this time, he made an effort to take as much of the flesh into his mouth as he could.

He was glad to find that this angle was much easier than being sat on. While he had liked Vegeta being in control, and he had liked that _a lot_ , now being in control himself gave him some additional time to figure out how to best go about this.

It had always looked much easier in the videos he kept hidden deep in his computer. Only now that it was real was he finding out that porn was entirely unhelpful in terms of where to keep your tongue and how to move your lips. His personal experience of the receiving end was pathetically limited and possibly even less helpful – other than the vague feeling that a lot of moisture might be a good idea.

However, Gohan was a smart man, a quick study, and tremendously motivated. Within a minute he had settled into a steady rhythm that Vegeta seemed to like, judging by the hand absently fisting his hair. Gohan’s own hand was fondling the lower half of Vegeta’s cock that he couldn't cover with his mouth. Not daring to touch himself this time for fear of being distracted from his main task, he kept his other hand chastely on Vegeta’s hip.

This was good. He could do this.

His elation at not being a total failure after all fuelled his enthusiasm. He bobbed his head faster and experimented with a sucking motion that Vegeta rewarded with a series of very quiet moans, so soft that Gohan was almost sure they had been meant to be suppressed.

Heat flared inside him. He moaned in return and saw no reason to hide it. He’d always been vocal during sex.

Vegeta shuddered and Gohan realized happily that the vibrations from his moan must have felt good. He felt good himself. The knowledge that he was providing his prince with pleasure made him feel warm with pride at being useful, at being _needed_.

Or at least wanted.

But as much as he enjoyed this, Gohan was yearning for more.

He pulled off. He was immediately backhanded across the face and groaned, unbelievably turned on. It was half a miracle he didn’t come in his pants.

“Did I say you could stop?” Vegeta said angrily.

“No, my prince,” Gohan admitted quickly. “But...” he swallowed.

“What?” Vegeta snarled impatiently. “Tell me quick or I'll just fuck your face.”

“Would you do it this time?” Gohan asked breathlessly. “...take me?”

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. “Take you how?” he said slowly, as if to make sure he understood.

Gohan closed his eyes in shame. “Fuck me,” he whispered.

Vegeta exhaled slowly. Then, grabbing the younger one by his hair, he pulled him down towards the ground and pushed him face first into the wide trunk of an old tree that had survived their fight. Gohan could feel Vegeta's small, hard body pressed against his back. His pants were roughly shoved down his hips and tangled around his ankles.

“Are you sure?” a deep voice purred against his right ear.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. He was. He had wanted this for so long, he would not forgive himself if he let this opportunity slide. It might be the only one he'd ever get. It wasn’t as though he would keep doing this. The damage for today was practically done anyway, he might as well go all the way with it.

Vegeta grunted. “Lick,” he said, holding the fingers of his right hand in front of Gohan's face. “And spread,” his other hand slapped Gohan's butt.

Obediently, Gohan stepped out of his pants with one leg so he could widen his stance. Taking Vegeta's hand in his, he brought it to his mouth and enthusiastically licked and sucked on the sweaty fingers.

“Enough,” Vegeta withdrew his hand. He pulled Gohan's hip back a little. His wet fingers probed against the younger man's opening and carefully pushed inside. Gohan bit back a pleased sigh. He was used to his own fingers and the occasional object up there – not that his wife knew of this hobby, of course – but if he seemed too accustomed to the sensation, Vegeta might draw the wrong conclusions from that fact.

“This is going to hurt,” he was warned with uncharacteristic concern in the deep voice.

Gohan licked his lips. “Make it.”

A moment later, he could feel Vegeta's fingers being replaced by the blunt tip of his penis, slowly but relentlessly pushing against him. Gohan tried to relax his muscles, knowing how painful this was going to be and craving it all the same.

_Oh, yes..._

_Oh God, yes..._

He groaned, all attempts at hiding his pleasure forgotten as the other sank deep into his body.

“Hm.” Vegeta grunted behind him, pressing up close to his back, “not exactly the first time, is it? Naughty. Who else takes you?”

“No one,” Gohan answered truthfully.

Vegeta snorted. “Sure, kid.”

Gohan closed his eyes and willed the prince to _move_ because the suspense was killing him. He knew deep down that if he was given even one moment to slow down and think about what he was doing, he might stop it.

“Maybe I can guess, hm?” Vegeta sounded amused. How he could be so casual, here, _now_ , was beyond Gohan. _His_ whole brain was dedicated to feeling the incredibly delicious burning in his ass and the hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it's the beanstalk.”

Gohan made a noise of disgust at the thought. Him and Piccolo? No way.

“Okay, no,” Vegeta said. “Let me think.” He slowly rolled his hips and Gohan gasped, almost dropping against the tree with the force of his need. Yes, _yes_ , he wanted this so _much_. _Please move, please..._

“Maybe it's the good little wife you have,” Vegeta said musingly, “maybe she likes to take control of you.” Gohan's mind laughed out loud, but his mouth could only groan desperately.

He could almost hear Vegeta grin. The bastard was enjoying this too much.

“Maybe,” the deep voice said, “maybe you have a thing for human boys. Maybe they come visit you in your office at lunch time.”

Gohan was going to protest when another roll of Vegeta's hips made him keen loudly instead. His heart was hammering in his chest even though still _nothing was happening_.

“Or maybe,” the voice seemed to drop another octave. Vegeta pulled Gohan's head backwards by his hair, so his lips came close to the younger man's ear, “maybe I. Don't. Care.”

And then he dropped Gohan's head and started ploughing him relentlessly.

It was all Gohan could do to remain standing. His arms gave way and he fell against the tree, hugging it rather than leaning against it. The bark scraped his cheek, unable to break Saiyan skin but unpleasant nonetheless.

He was moaning on every exhale as his body was rocked strongly with the force of Vegeta's thrusts, keeping up a pace no human man could ever have achieved. It was exquisite. He had never known his inner skin would be so sensitive – toys had definitely not prepared him for _this_. The ever-present pain as always only served to heighten the pleasure, pushing him higher and higher, relentlessly propelling him toward orgasm.

He didn't know how long he would be able to fight it off.

To make matters worse, or better, one of Vegeta's hands soon sneaked around their bodies to Gohan's front and gave his cock a squick squeeze that made him keen even more loudly. That was the beginning of the end.

The combined sensations of Vegeta’s hand on his most sensitive parts, the other hand gripping his butt tightly, the hard cock pounding him and the bark of the tree scraping his skin were too much to resist. For maybe thirty more seconds, Gohan was a mess of incoherent noises and uncontrollable bodily movements, and then orgasm hit him like a ki blast to his face.

_Too soon again, damn it_ , was his last semi-coherent thought before his cock started spurting thick pulses of come against the tree and onto the ground. He gasped for air.

Abandoning any effort to keep upright on his own accord, his body went limp.

Vegeta snarled and held him as if he was a ragdoll. He was still chasing his own pleasure.

Gohan let him.

He was perfectly content to be used, to be pushed continually at the rough bark in front of him, scraping at his skin. It felt particularly intense on his sensitive cock, a sensation he thoroughly enjoyed. He closed his eyes and fell into the pain, into the intensity of it all with a dazed smile.

Time slowed down – or sped up, he wasn’t sure. It hardly mattered. Gohan was in a cloud of bliss, his only point of focus Vegeta's hands on his wrist and the hard cock slamming into him.

If there were telltale signs of Vegeta’s impending orgasm, Gohan missed them. He was taken by surprise when the prince’s rhythm faltered and moist breath hit him between his shoulderblades as Vegeta panted wetly, still remarkably quiet. The hands on his hips slackened.

Gohan felt something like pride in his chest, having given pleasure to this glorious man.

Vegeta stayed still pressed up against him for a good twenty seconds. Gohan not only heard his deep continuous purring, he could even feel the vibrations of it in his own back. For a split second, his mind entertained the thought of falling asleep to this sound with Vegeta spooning him in a comfortable bed.

That fantasy was cut short abruptly when Vegeta bit his shoulder and pushed off him roughly.

Needing a moment to adjust, Gohan kept his back to him as they both righted their clothes again. He felt dirty; and right now he revelled in it.

Finally unable to resist, he sneaked a glance at Vegeta once he had no more creases to straighten.

The prince looked barely ruffled. The familiar look of superiority was back on his face, if it had ever left it. The spiky hair looked as wild as ever and the Saiyan uniform hid traces of sweat as it always did. Only a slight blush on Vegeta's cheekbones indicated an exertion at all, and that could have been sparring.

Gohan, for his part, felt like his own dopey grin and his trembling hands would give away what he had been doing in a second if anyone cared to look.

“Same time next week?” Gohan asked carefully.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, _now_ you are remembering that arrangement.”

Embarrassment flushed his cheeks further, but he stood his ground and kept looking steadily at Vegeta. He really, really wanted to see him again. Next week. Every week.

Vegeta held his gaze for a moment, then he huffed and looked away. “Sure,” he said. “Why not. But more sparring next time. And wear appropriate clothes again.”

Gohan flopped down into the grass and lay there for several minutes after Vegeta had taken off, watching birds and the wind in the trees. He couldn't keep a wide smile off his face. He hadn’t felt this satisfied, this _happy_ , in years. Everything inside him was filled with something like a blissful pudding.

He yawned at the clouds above him and tried not to drop off into sleep.

Then, ten minutes later, the endorphines had worn off and happy was the last thing he was feeling.

He’d done it again. He had cheated on his wife, just because they’d had an argument.

What a bastard he was.

*****

  
  


“You did it again, didn't you?” A deep voice next to him yanked Gohan out of his blissful self-imposed misery.

He hid his face in his hands. “What are you doing here?” he croaked into his palms. He hadn’t even sensed his friend’s approach, caught in his own despair.

Piccolo sniffed. “Thought you might need new clothes again. But I see you practically saved them this time. Smart.”

Gohan groaned.

A minute passed, but Piccolo didn't leave.

“Go on, say it,” Gohan said when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. “Say it and leave. I'm weak, I'm stupid, how could I do this, I have a child to think of, Vegeta is a bad guy, he's not worth it, what the hell am I doing...” he listed emotionlessly.

“Gohan,” Piccolo interrupted him. “I'm not judging you.”

Gohan finally looked up at him. Piccolo's expression wasn't angry, it showed sadness and sympathy. “You should,” Gohan said. “Someone should, and I don't plan on telling anyone else.”

Piccolo's mouth twitched with a hint of amusement. “It seems like you're judging yourself enough.” He folded his legs and hovered cross-legged in the air next to the young man. “I knew if it could _happen_ once, it would _happen_ again sooner or later,” Piccolo said calmly, looking into the distance. “And I think you did too.”

Gohan swallowed heavily, but said nothing. He couldn't deny that he had expected, even wished for, a second time. And a third. And a twenty-seventh.

“You have desired him for too long not to use an opportunity when it presented itself.”

Gohan looked around at him incredulously. “How... how do you...?”

“I observe,” Piccolo answered simply. “And I know you.”

Gohan blushed and looked away. He didn't think he had been that obvious in his feelings for Vegeta. But if Piccolo knew, Piccolo who didn't care for others' emotions at all, how many others had noticed? Had Videl?

As if reading his mind, and maybe he was, the Namekian said softly, “I don't think anyone else knows.”

“Good,” Gohan said, relaxing slightly. All his embarrassing secrets were safe with his best friend.

There was another pause. Gohan breathed more deeply. Piccolo's presence was soothing, reassuring. His racing mind calmed a little and his shoulders drooped. He knew it had been wrong to go after Vegeta, knew he should never have done it at all. But he also knew that he was weak and might never be able to resist the older Saiyan. He was a mess.

Surprisingly, it was the taciturn Namekian who broke the silence. “Now what?”

Gohan sighed. “I don't know. I don't want to lose Videl or Pan, and I don't want to hurt them, but,” he took a deep breath, “I don't know if I can _not_ do this again. Not really.”

“Hm,” Piccolo said. “I thought so.”

“It's _Vegeta_ ,” Gohan said, in an effort to make Piccolo understand. “He... he's _so._..” he groaned. There were no words to express how his eyes would follow Vegeta's every move of their own accord, how his stomach would flip whenever Vegeta smirked at him, how his skin had burned when Vegeta touched it, how his dreams featured lots and lots of naked saiyan, how right it felt to lose a fight with his prince because he was the prince and was supposed to be strong and take care of his people, how badly he wanted to show Vegeta he was worth something even if he was half human and nowhere near as strong as his father, and how Vegeta's indifference to him made him ache inside.

He sighed, leaving his sentence unfinished. “But I shouldn’t. Obviously.”

Piccolo regarded him silently. “ You are an intelligent man. I’m sure you will choose the right path.”

Gohan smiled sadly. He knew which path that was, but the lure of the wrong path was strong. “I'll try.”

*****

  
  


The sun had long set when Gohan landed lightly in front of his house.

His stomach felt queasy. He knew he could not justify a second time as an accident, even to himself. He had knowingly and willingly cheated on his wife. It was despicable.

Pan must be in bed by now. If he was lucky, so was Videl.

He carefully closed the front door behind him and toed his shoes off in the dark, trying not to make a sound. He would just get a quick glass of water from the kitchen, and then slip quietly into bed with his sleeping wife, and she would never know.

To avoid his footsteps making any sound, he hovered through the kitchen towards the sink and filled a glass of water.

“Hi,” Videl said from the doorway.

Gohan choked on his water and spun around. His heart was drumming and his stomach swooped even worse than it had before. “Hi,” he managed weakly. He must have been very distracted not to hear her approach.

“Are you ready to apologize?”

Gohan reeled. How did she know? She couldn't know. Oh Kami. She knew!

“You can't go around calling my father names,” she said. “I know that... well, that you have a point. But he's my _dad_! Would you like it if I called your father a moron? I'd have a point there too.”

Oh. That.

He had almost forgotten the fight that had prompted him to seek out Vegeta in the first place.

He swallowed.

At least she didn’t know about the worst thing he’d done, then.

“You’re right,” he said automatically as he cast his thoughts around to find things to say. “It… well,” he took a deep breath and tried to focus on this issue and this issue alone. They could talk it out like functioning adults. He had always tried to keep their relationship healthy and honest. He could do this.

He could put all thoughts of Vegeta out of his mind and focus on what Videl _thought_ was bothering him.

“I like Hercules,” he said, “really, I do. What I don’t like is the unfairness of it. My dad _died_ in that fight. So did Trunks. The other one, from the future,” he added as he saw Videl’s momentary confusion. “you weren’t there. It was brutal. Cell toyed with us. He held the fate of humanity in the palm of his hand.” And my dad considered it _fun_ , he thought bitterly, but didn’t say it out loud. This particular resentment had no place here. “And I had to kill him and it was _hard_ ,” he said truthfully. “I was a kid, I was younger than Pan is now. I didn’t like it, but I had to step up. I had no choice.”

Videl was listening intently. She knew all this, of course, but they hadn’t talked about Cell in years.

“And Hercules – well, _he_ didn’t have to fight. He lost no one, he didn’t go through the pain of it all. Physical or otherwise.”

“And yet he pretends that that was his proudest moment,” Videl said thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

“Exactly,” Gohan said, relieved that she could see what he meant.

Videl sighed. “Okay. You’re right. That’s not fair.”

“I’m worried that he gives Pan the idea that battles are easy and fun,” he said quietly. “And not a very last resort that makes you do things you won’t be proud of later.”

She grimaced. “The boys give her the same impression, you know.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m not happy about that, either. They were so young when we battled Boo that I don’t think they... know. What it’s like.”

Videl stepped closer and put her head on his shoulder. His arms went around her reflexively and they hugged in silence for a minute.

“You don’t have to go to the gala if you don’t want to,” Videl’s voice told him, muffled by his clothes. “But I’d be happier with you there. You’re one of the sane ones.”

He chuckled. “I guess I can do that once a year. Be your moral support. And,” he hesitated, careful to phrase his thoughts, “I shouldn’t have said what I did the way I did. I shouldn’t have called him that behind his back. Especially not in front of Pan. I’m sorry.”

She squeezed his arm in acknowledgement. “It’s fine. I get why you did it. But he’s my dad.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.” The indignation he felt when someone insulted his own father sometimes conflicted with his own feelings about him. He knew exactly what it was like. It was as though there were things you were allowed to think about your own parents, but no one else was.

Then Videl’s nimble fingers were on his chin, tilting his head towards hers. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Gohan was slightly disgusted with himself as he kissed her back.

This, he told himself firmly, _this_ was home. _This_ was good.

What was wrong with himself that he was even risking losing this?

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

_featuring: Dinosaurs and a blowjob. No. In two separate scenes. Obviously. What were you thinking?_

  
  


Pan stumbled downstairs to the kitchen in the morning, bleary-eyed and feeling like she’d been wrestling Goten for at least four hours. She had barely slept. She had sensed Gohan come home in the evening and had heard her parents talk quietly, but that could mean anything. Maybe they just hadn’t shouted because they didn’t want to wake her up.

Her dad was alone at the breakfast table with her mom nowhere in sight. Pan’s official lunch and her secret lunch (which was a lot bigger) were sitting ready on the counter as always, though. Her mom must have prepared them before leaving.

Pan breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be around both of them together right now, not if they were still arguing. She _hated_ that.

Dad looked up from his newspaper when she entered the room. “Morning.” He smiled at her, but it was a tense sort of smile. That was not a good sign, was it?

“Morning,” she said carefully and walked past him to fill up the toasters as usual. As she waited for her first eight slices of toast, she glanced around at practically anything to avoid looking at her father. If they were still fighting, she didn’t even want to know. Two or three minutes stretched endlessly. She hadn’t felt this uncomfortable in their own kitchen in forever.

Gohan had gone back to his newspaper and said nothing.

Finally, _finally_ the toast jumped up and she had something to do. Buttering the bread and getting some juice occupied her hands. She cluttered around and made more noise than necessary, but it made her feel better. The silence was just awful. She wished someone else was there, someone who talked a lot, like Bra or Dad’s friend Simon, or Goten.

She carried her breakfast back to the table, hesitating for just a second before sliding into her usual seat. It was right across from her dad’s.

He looked at her again, but she kept her head down and picked at her toasts. Her throat was burning. She just wanted to _leave_ , but she knew she wouldn't get through the first lessons at school if she didn’t have a satisfying breakfast.

“Are you okay?”, Gohan said gently.

The corners of her eyes prickled and she blinked rapidly. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Fine,” she mumbled without glancing up.

The newspaper rustled as Dad folded it up and put it aside. Oh great, now he wasn’t even distracted anymore. Any moment now he’d force her to talk…

But instead, her father's large hand gently touched her forearm, just for a second. “I’m sorry,” Gohan said quietly. She looked up in astonishment before she could help herself. Finally looking directly at him, she could see that he looked about as bad as she felt. Like he hadn’t slept much either. “I know you hate it when we fight,” he said.

“No,” she lied quickly. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

He smiled weakly again. “That’s good. Because _I_ hate it when you feel bad and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” she protested. “I mean,” she paused, picking at her toast again, and mumbled: “It’s maybe a little bit your fault. But I get it. I tried to explan it to mom yesterday after you left.”

“Did you?” Gohan said. “Thanks. What did you say?”

“You know,” she shrugged awkwardly. “Honor and stuff.” She had tried to summarize the things that Vegeta had taught her and Bra about Saiyans and fighting. But he used words like _glory_ and _pride_ and _shame_ and saying those things to her mom had just felt weird. She didn’t think she’d been very successful. Her mom just didn’t _get_ it. She wasn’t like them.

“Hmm,” her dad said. He sounded a bit surprised.

“So,” she said, trying to sound like it didn’t matter to her whether her parents were getting a divorce or something, “did you and mom make up?”

Gohan nodded slowly. His smile was more natural now. It was like a weight falling off her chest.

“I’m going to go to the gala with her,” he said. “As moral support. But I tried to explain better why your grandpa’s behavior bothers me sometimes.” He grimaced. “It’s easier to explain things if you don’t shout, you know. I think she understands it now.”

Pan doubted this, but she was still very happy to hear it. “Good,” she said casually. Suddenly hungry, she wolfed down her toast and got up for the next eight slices.

“Hey, do you still want to go dinosaur hunting tomorrow?” Her father asked. “Just the two of us?”

Her spirits lifted even further. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”

  
  


*****

Over the course of the next day and a half, Gohan went through a roller coaster of emotions.

Almost every time he looked at his wife, guilt churned deep inside his gut. He avoided her wherever he could, convinced that she could tell his dirty secret just by looking at him. On a rational level, he knew that this was not possible. She also lacked an acute sense of smell or ki detection so that he was sure she had not been able to tell he had been with Vegeta when he’d come back home on Thursday. But all the same, he was uneasy every time he was alone with her.

And yet… whenever he remembered the other Saiyan, the way he’d touched him, his smell, his cock stretching Gohan’s lips, his teeth sinking into Gohan’s skin, a wave of incredible excitement came over him. At work on Friday, the arousal was so strong that he actually had to sneak into the men’s room to masturbate – something he’d certainly never done before. It didn’t really help, either. His mind remained just as obsessed with Vegeta as before.

He had a feeling that he wasn’t even feeling as guilty as he should, and that made him feel even guiltier. This time had not been an accident. It couldn't be explained away the way he had so successfully re-framed their first encounter in his mind. No, this time he had deliberately gone to find another person to sleep with and cheat on his wife. There was no excuse for it. Sure he had told himself that it was for the fight or the pain, but weren’t those connected? He had been angry with Videl but that was no reason to go behind her back like that.

All in all, with the memory of his adultery combined with the dreaded gala looming over him, he wasn’t having the best time. His spirits only lifted when he and Pan took off from their lawn late on Saturday morning and streaked through the air together towards the wild plains. The distraction alone was a relief.

Dinosaur hunting was something Gohan had never done for fun until Bra, in whose family this was apparently a favorite pastime, had started doing it with Pan. He supposed it was their equivalent of the “girl’s night” Videl sometimes participated in with her own girlfriends, less and less reluctantly over the years.

Videl had worried about the girls when Bra had first asked Pan along, and had made Gohan go with them for protection. He had only done this two or three times in the beginning, though, because he privately thought they could take care of themselves well enough. It had really been more of a favor to Videl than to the girls. He had reported to his wife that yes, the two eight-year-olds were perfectly fine hunting on their own and no, his presence was not needed.

She had not believed him.

It had been one of the worst arguments between them, and while Videl had eventually relented and let the girls go alone, he knew she still didn’t consider dinosaur hunting a very reasonable hobby.

But he did.

“Okay,” he whispered to Pan, “do you want to do baiting or killing?”

“Killing”, she replied instantly, as he’d suspected she would.

They were hidden in a clump of bushes, watching a gigantic dinosaur amble somewhat aimlessly over the plains. It was a vicious looking carnivore. They often hunted this species since Pan resolutely refused to kill anything that looked even remotely cute, and this was as far from cute as an animal could get. While the carnivores’ meat was much less tender, the girl seemed to think that hunting innocent herbivores was unfair somehow.

“Good,” Gohan said. “Go left and wait in that little ravine there. I’ll go right and lead it your way. All right?”

She nodded and slipped off noiselessly to the left, taking care to stay downwind of the beast.

He waited until she was in position and then moved to the right.

Unlike his daughter, he was now upwind. Sure enough, the beast immediately raised its head in interest. Dinosaurs didn’t sniff the air like mammals did, but it was clear that it had caught his scent.

Perfect.

Hovering slightly above the ground, he moved out into the open.

The dinosaur roared and began to move its heavy body towards him, quickly reaching an impressive speed. He hovered backwards at just the right pace to keep it at a safe distance, taunting it by not getting any closer. The dinosaur let out another frustrated roar and followed his every movement.

Now that he had its complete attention, Gohan began to lead the beast around. He flew loops and swerves at what was for him a leisurely pace while the thundering footsteps followed him.

Feeling mischievous, he suddenly dived and flew straight between the reptile’s front legs. Narrowly avoiding its tail, he came out on the other side with a whoop of joy. The beast’s giant jaws snapped at him angrily as he came up near its head again. He had no trouble avoiding them. Oh, how it felt good to be concentrating on something simple for once.

Eventually deciding he’d had enough fun, Gohan began to gradually lead the animal towards the ravine where he could sense Pan’s ki.

He took care to swerve left and right a little instead of leading it in a straight line, which kept its pace steady and slow enough that his daughter would easily be able to blast it without missing.

Unfortunately, whether it was a change in the wind or a glimpse of movement, the dinosaur’s head suddenly turned away from Gohan and towards the ravine. It had spotted Pan.

Shouting and waving his arms, Gohan tried to bring the animal’s attention back to himself, but it was no use. Setting its heavy body in motion again, the dinosaur stomped towards the rocks. It quickly gained speed. Gohan watched as it bolted straight at Pan.

He could have easily stopped the dinosaur, but he didn’t feel he should interfere. He knew perfectly well that she could deal with a dinosaur on her own ( _he_ had hunted them routinely at the age of four, after all) but it still made him slightly queasy to watch.

Still, he kept himself back, hovering in the air to observe.

Pan had been completely focused on their chase, so she must have noticed it immediately when the beast had turned towards her. She had slid into a calm fighting stance and was simply waiting. Gohan wondered why she didn’t move up into the air, but she must have been planning something else.

Sure enough, she bent her knees slightly the second the dinosaur was on her, and with a yell she jumped right across it, turning in the air to make sure she was out of range of the snapping jaws – and the horned tail slammed into her.

Gohan gasped. “Pan!”

She landed on the ground with an “Ooof!” as the breath was knocked out of her. The dinosaur roared triumphantly and turned on the spot to face the little girl. It lowered its head. Gohan tensed, ready to blast it any second now.

His heart was thumping. His daughter, lying helplessly on the ground and about to be devoured by a gigantic dinosaur, was a scene straight out of his nightmares. It was all he could do to keep himself from interfering in this very, very long second.

But he needn’t have worried.

Pan used both arms and legs to push herself off away from the ground in a flash of ki, again just out of reach of the giant jaws. Gohan swelled with pride watching her agile movements. Hovering above the beast, she aimed a golden ki blast that went straight through its thick neck. She quickly followed it up with a second and third, her face screwed up in concentration.

Her father’s eyes, however, were on her hair.

It was flickering between blond and black.

Gohan’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. Well, _that_ was new.

Or… was it? He hadn’t exactly been training a lot with her. He might just not be up to date. It was embarrassing that he didn’t even know whether his daughter was able to transform… just like his little brother who had surprised him with it at a young age.

The beast stumbled and fell to the ground with a loud crash. Its legs and tail thrashed about in its agony, until Pan shot another ki blast almost lazily straight into its head and it stilled immediately.

Pan’s stance relaxed. Her hair was entirely black again as if nothing had happened. Gohan wondered if she was even aware anything had.

“Great job!” he called over to her.

She looked at him and grinned.

They met on the ground several meters away from the carcass. “Well,” Gohan said, looking at it thoughtfully. “Since I’m going to the gala tonight and you have your grandma’s cooking to look forward to, I don’t think we’ll have to skin the whole thing. Just lunch?”

Pan nodded. “I’ll do the tail.”

Gohan suppressed a smile. Pan always did the tail. While she had no qualms about killing (and he was sometimes alarmed by how much she seemed to actively enjoy the act), she was a bit squeamish about skinning and gutting. Not that he could blame her. “Okay,” he agreed easily and moved to slit open the beast’s large belly. Since it was a skinny carnivore, they could really only get edible flesh in any decent quantity from its torso and its tail.

A few minutes later he was elbow-deep in warm organs and fresh blood while Pan was neatly slicing the tail, severing off the horns and gnobbly parts as she went and clearly trying not to look too closely at what her father was doing.

Gohan did not enjoy this part too much either. It was just necessary and had to be done if you wanted to have some juicy bits for lunch. But he’d never liked the smell of blood. His father did. He’d always liked fresh meat, sometimes even raw, and had never minded sticking his hands into a bleeding carcass.

He could see Goku in his mind, laughing merrily as he practically climbed into whatever animal he’d brought home that day and talking animatedly to a revolted-looking Chichi out on the front lawn, gesturing wildly with a fresh, dripping liver in his hand. The memory brought an affectionate smile to his lips. It had to be some Saiyan thing, that desire to hunt. He wondered if Vegeta liked it. That thought was a bad idea though, as it made his stomach swoop uncomfortably and he had to close his eyes against the wave of nausea caused by a combination of the stench and his own squirming guts.

More to take his mind off both Vegeta and his disgusting current task, he said casually: “So, I saw your hair was changing color when you were fighting this thing.”

Pan seemed to forget what she was doing, as the sounds of her cuts stopped for a second before resuming. “Uh, yeah,” she said quietly. “It does that sometimes.”

That didn’t sound very enthusiastic on her part. “You know that’s not a bad thing, right?” Gohan said.

“Yeah, no, I know,” she replied quickly. “It’s part of the transformation into Super Saiyan.”

Gohan wondered why she was still talking as though it was something deeply unpleasant. Pan was usually so keen on fighting, much more than he was. He’d thought she’d welcome the transformation. “And what’s wrong with that?” He asked carefully, still not looking at her.

The sounds of rasping dinosaur tail flesh became more vicious, as though she was now tearing it with her bare hands. “The hair color thing happens all – the – time,” she said angrily. “It’s been, like, a _year_. And I never get past it. I never actually…-”

She stopped and sighed. “Bra has been able to do it for two years,” she mumbled dejectedly.

_Ah._

“Well, she’s one year older than you,” Gohan said reasonably. “So really she’s only one year ahead.”

Pan’s mouth twitched in a smile.

“You know that this transformation happens when you’re angry, right?” he said. “So if you’re not transforming, it might just be a sign that you’re too happy. That’s not so bad if you ask me.”

She shook her head, looking disbelieving.

“Bra says all you have to do is train hard enough. She says that’s how Vegeta did it.”

Gohan’s stomach lurched again. He had spent the past two hours finally _almost_ _not_ thinking about Vegeta, and there was his daughter throwing his name around so casually.

How was he ever supposed to establish a normal type of spar-buddy relationship with the man, if he still reacted physically to even hearing his _name_?

Or had any chance at a normal relationship with the prince long died anyway?

“That’s not really true,” he said shortly. He didn’t want to talk about Vegeta, but he couldn’t leave Pan with false ideas. “Vegeta trained very hard and still couldn't transform. Eventually, this failure made him so livid with hatred that the transformation happened. I guess he leaves out that part when he tells the story now.”

“Oh,” Pan said, sounding thoughtful. She had abandoned her work on the tail.

“Dad transformed when he was fighting Frieza,” Gohan ticked off on his bloody fingers. “The Trunks from the future did it when… when his mentor was killed,” Pan did _not_ have to know the details about that one, “and I struggled for a long time. To finally manage it, I had to imagine an enemy killing my friends.”

“So it works by imagination!” Pan said eagerly. “I can just imagine being angry?”

“Maybe,” Gohan said slowly. “Keep in mind that for me, those were _memories_ of a real rage and not a fictional scenario. But sure, maybe it’s possible by imagination only, if you think about something that would really frighten or enrage you. How did Bra do it?”

“She was sparring with Trunks and Goten, and she says they teased her so much that she really wanted to win. And then suddenly, she was much stronger and her hair was blond.”

That was impressive – if it was true. Gohan wondered if Bra hadn’t downplayed the teasing a little in her story. The boys could be pretty vicious sometimes. They must have really rattled her to provoke a transformation.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, “then maybe I just have to tease you more, huh? Maybe… tickle you, you think?” He pulled his hands out of the carcass with a sickening slurping sound and began advancing on his daughter with a wide grin. He stretched his bloody, smelly hands towards her.

Pan gasped in disgust, and was at the same time completely unable to stop laughing. “No!” she squealed as he chased her around the plain. “No! Get away from me! Aaaah! Help!”

*****

  
  


Bulma bustled around in the kitchen, making a sandwich Bra had asked for. Vegeta was standing casually in the corner with a mug of coffee in his hands. Every time she glanced at him, he was still in the same pose, regarding her with the thoughtful frown he had been wearing for two days. Well, if he wanted something, he was going to have to ask. She had long given up on patience for his enigmatic silences.

“Why were you with me?” Vegeta said so suddenly she almost sliced into her finger with the butter knife as she jumped.

“What?” she said, distracted.

“Why were you with me?” He repeated calmly.

She paused. Putting down the knife, she turned to look at him fully. “That's kind of a big question, Vegeta.”

He shrugged.

“Well,” she said, crossing her arms and looking at the floor to help her think. “You're loyal, you're tough, you're smart, you're a good father...” She sighed, shaking her head. “No,” she said. Because if she was honest, none of those qualities, no matter how much she did admire them and how fond she was of the prince, were the actual reason. “I liked that you were everything but clingy. That we could continue to live our lives independently. That we could be... committed without all that romance crap.”

He chuckled.

Looking back at him, she saw the warmth in his eyes as he looked at her over his coffee. It was one of those moments she almost wished they hadn't broken up.

Almost.

“Fine, woman,” he said. “But that was later. I meant in the beginning. Why did you start something with me when you still considered me one of the most evil guys on the planet?”

“In the beginning?” She blushed, remembering those times. “Um,” she said sheepishly, “in the beginning it was only physical. You were,” she cleared her throat, “too hot to resist.”

It was true. She actually did like Vegeta and thought he was an amazing, complex person despite all his faults – but it had taken even _her_ some time to feel that way. A _long_ time.

“So you found me attractive?”

She looked at him exasperatedly. What was the point of this interrogation?

“If you're fishing for compliments, forget it,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head. “Your ego is big enough to barely fit into this house, I'm not going to help inflating it.”

“A simple yes or no would have sufficed,” Vegeta drawled, clearly back to his usual self. “But I'm going to take that as a yes, since you practically said so.”

She blinked. Now she had to make sure.

“You do _know_ that you're gorgeous, right?” she asked, in spite of herself.

He looked at her for a long moment. “First time I'm hearing anything like that from you.”

She raised her eyebrows. He was not being arrogant. He was really asking. Wow. The man had looks to derail a train, and he was asking her if he was attractive. Although it was true, she reflected, that she had never been one to gush about her lover openly as much as she did it inwardly.

“Yes,” she said simply. “you're stunning. Does that help?”

“A bit,” he said with a small smile.

“Why the sudden insecurity?” She asked curiously.

“I'm not _insecure_ ,” he growled, a sound that had long ago ceased to frighten her. “I'm the strongest person on this godsforsaken mudball! Physical attractiveness was just not a quality I had attributed to myself until now.”

“Are you serious?” She suppressed a laugh, knowing how much it irritated the prince to be 'mocked', as he would inevitably call it. “Damn, Vegeta, if you interacted with humans more often, you would probably see half of the women keel over for you!”

A smug smirk now graced his face. “All right then. So by human standards, I'm hot. Good to know.”

“By which standards aren't…,” she began, but then interrupted herself because it was obvious, really: “Are you not attractive by Saiyan standards?”

He hesitated and seemed to contemplate whether or not to answer that question. “My status and my power would make me a very desirable mate,” he said finally. “But...” he sighed in apparent defeat, “I'm short. I'm practically a runt. Physical stature is the single most important factor in visual attraction among us. Nothing else can make up for the lack of it.”

Ignoring the way he spoke about his extinct people in the present tense, as he tended to do on the rare occasion they came up, she inclined her head in thought. “Right, the others were much bigger, weren't they? And Goku is much taller than you too.”

He snarled at her. Goku was always a _very_ touchy subject. “I would have been much taller too if my growth hadn't been stunted when I was young,” he spat, sounding much more insulted than she thought he had any right to be. “I'd easily have been taller than that idiotic third-class _Kakarott_ , I promise you.”

“How was your growth stunted?” she asked with interest. Vegeta hardly ever spoke about his youth or any of the time before he had come to earth. The scraps of information she had pieced together over the years had led her to deduce that none of it had been particularly enjoyable. Especially when it came to Frieza. Vegeta seemed to harbor not only a bottomless hatred, but even an undeniable amount of _fear_ of the icejin, even after all those years. Not that he would ever admit it.

“Who cares?” he sneered bitterly. “Doesn't matter now, does it? It was long ago.”

“Was it during the time you were with Frieza?” she asked quietly. She had some pretty plausible though gruesome theories on what could have happened to stunt the prince's growth.

He straightened abruptly. “I'm going back to the gravity room.” Slamming the mug down on the counter top (she cringed, silently praying the impact hadn't damaged the wood permanently), he stalked off.

She stood there, lost in thought, until Bra came in two minutes later.

“Sandwiches,” the girl whined theatrically. “Now!”

“Please,” she prompted her daughter automatically. “Now.”

Bra rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “ _Please_ , mom? Can I have sandwiches? If it takes you this long, I could have made them myself.”

“Maybe that's a good idea for next time, then,” she said slightly distractedly, her thoughts still on Vegeta. Why was he thinking about his own attractiveness all of a sudden?

Was he going to try and find a new partner?

She wondered how she would feel about that…

  
  


*****

All things considered, the gala didn’t go too bad. Gohan spent most of his time listening politely to people he didn’t know, smiling and nodding in the right places while his mind was where it had been since Thursday. He worked his way through six different kinds of drinks and only stopped when some buffed up human dojo leader remarked with sour jealousy that he was holding his alcohol _remarkably_ well. He tried to avoid Hercules himself after their initial greeting, and felt somewhat guilty for this because his father-in-law actually seemed to be on his best behavior. But apparently, Gohan was doing a lot of things wrong these days anyway. The little bit of small guilt could hardly compare to the huge pile of big guilt still sitting in his chest.

Videl was in a giggly mood when they left the party, due to the amount of her favorite wine always available at the Satan residence. She planted her feet up on the dashboard of the hovercraft, not noticing that it made her skirt slide all the way down and reveal her underwear, and then proceeded to chat loudly to herself and laughing at her every other sentence.

She had always been a cute drunk, and Gohan couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he flew them home.

He also had a feeling he might get lucky tonight.

Unfortunately, the feeling made him feel less excited and more queasy than it should have. They had not slept together since… well, since _before_ the incident with the tree.

Getting Videl into the house _quietly_ proved to be a challenge. She clung to him as she stumbled and snickered uncontrollably. “Here, let me,” he said, squatting down to help her out of her high-heeled shoes. She leaned on his shoulder, swaying a little while he attempted to figure out how to open the tiny buckles.

Chichi appeared in the doorway from the living room, looking amused. “I see you had fun, then.”

“Hi Mom,” Gohan said, still on the floor. “How’s Pan?” He personally thought his daughter didn’t need babysitting at her age, but Videl disagreed and so Chichi watched over Pan whenever they needed a night off.

“Asleep. We baked some cookies, watched a chick flick...”

“Hiiiii Chichi!” Videl waved enthusiastically. The movement didn’t make her husband’s task any easier.

“Do you need some help?” Chichi asked with a grin.

“Naaaaah, I’m fine,” Videl waved her off.

“I meant Gohan,” Chichi clarified. She came over, knelt down beside him and deftly helped him undo the buckles while Videl bent over interestedly to see what they were doing.

“Thanks, Mom,” Gohan said in relief.

“No problem, sweetie,” she ruffled his hair. Videl immediately copied her and stuck her fingers in his hair curiously. With an amused eye roll, he gently removed her hand from his head and got up.

“I think I can take it from here,” Gohan said. “You can head home.”

“Are you sure?” Chichi asked grinning, watching Videl turn over Gohan’s hand in both of hers and studying his palm intensely.

Gohan chuckled. “Yeah. We’ll be fine. Her dress is much easier to open than the shoes. I’ll take her upstairs.”

“Okay. Have a good night then.”

“You too. Thanks again for babysitting.”

“Anytime.”

With a last wave of her hand, she was out the door.

Gohan sighed. “All right,” he said to his wife. “Let’s get you up to bed.”

“Ooooh,” she said. “Bed! Good. I have… have some plans for you, mister.” She leered at him in what was possibly meant to be a seductive way but entirely failed to elicit any feelings in him other than amusement. He gently picked her up and carried her up the stairs, careful not to let her bump her head against the wall. She was squealing with enjoyment.

“Here,” he said, setting her down gingerly on the bed. “I’ll help you with your dress.”

“Oh yes, “ she said. “Hmmm… get me good and naked...”

Gohan’s stomach clenched.

He seated himself behind her, which at least had the benefit of her being unable to see his face, and carefully pulled down the zipper on her dress. Meanwhile, she had managed to find his leg next to hers and was now sliding one hand up his thigh.

He cleared his throat. “Here. All done.” He moved backwards, hoping the movement wasn’t quick enough to seem eager.

Videl stood up and her dress floated down to the floor all around her. She turned around, naked except for her panties. When she found that her husband was no longer sitting at the edge of the bed but had moved to the middle, she grinned and crawled over the mattress towards him. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down, straddling his hips.

When she leaned down to kiss him, Gohan admitted defeat.

It was clear that she wouldn’t let him go to sleep until he had satisfied her. The trouble was… well, physical. He had never had problems keeping up an erection, but tonight he simply wasn’t in the mood at all. The slight tingle he felt in himself and his own body, as though the scent, the raw _claim_ of Vegeta was still all over him where it didn’t belong, made his mind shy away from sharing his body with someone else.

On the other hand, maybe this was exactly what he needed to finally rid himself of his stupid obsession.

Yes. That made sense.

Their love life just hadn’t been very active lately, and had hardly ever been exciting to begin with. It was natural that he would feel a bit deprived and jump on the first chance that presented itself, right? If he reminded himself how nice it could be with his wife, that would be the first step towards smothering these newly intensified urges.

He kissed Videl with renewed vigor.

Maybe if they tried something a little bit more exciting, it would help?

He let her open his dress shirt and kiss her way down his chest. His hands played idly in her hair as he tried to push her head gently, slowly, gradually further down and not be too obvious about it.

When her face had reached the exact level he had wanted it to, he let out a slow breath. Okay, yeah, he was definitely feeling the mood now. His slacks were thin, after all.

Videl looked up and he smiled down at her. Using both hands, he opened his own button and fly. Videl helped him take his pants off by pulling them down his legs and then came back up to eye level, which was not where he had wanted her at all. He would have to make his wishes clearer. He let her kiss him, but once she was busy nibbling at the side of his neck, he cleared his throat and gathered his courage. “Would you, uh, suck it tonight?”

“Oh,” she said, leaving his neck alone in favor of looking at him. “Um. Okay, yeah. Okay.”

_Yes!_ Even though there was a clear lack of enthusiasm in her voice, her consent alone made his arousal surge. He smiled at her again. “I’ll make it worth your time,” he promised.

She wriggled down the bed until she was level with his crotch again. Together they made quick work of his underwear, and then she looked at his dick with a skeptical frown. The thought of how differently Vegeta had looked at his cock shot through Gohan’s mind but he suppressed it quickly. Now was not the time to think about that.

Actually, the appropriate time was never. But he knew he had no chance at that happening.

Videl tentatively took his cock in hand. As always, her grip was soft and gentle as though she was afraid of breaking the shaft in half. “Like this?” she asked. He nodded. She took a deep breath and leaned down, closing her soft lips around the head of his cock.

Thousands of nerve endings sang in appreciation and he did his best not to buck up into the warm velvet that enveloped him. She moved her head down the shaft a little and then back up. There was a slight scrape of teeth that made Gohan hiss. “Sorry,” she said quickly, pulling off.

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I, uh, don’t mind that. A bit.” If she was this squeamish about even blowing him, mentioning his masochist tendencies would probably cross the line by a mile. He tried to smile encouragingly because he really, really wanted her to go back down there now.

She leaned forward once more. This time she had the presence of mind to hold his cock steady with one hand which made her downward movement more successful. She bobbed down and up and down and up a few times. Just when Gohan’s body was starting to appreciate the rhythm, she gagged and pulled back off again. “No,” she wheezed. “Nope, sorry, not happening.”

Gohan wanted to groan in annoyance. “That wasn’t too bad,” he half-lied. “Can’t you just do that a bit more?” At this point, it probably wouldn't even take him long.

She pouted at him.

He released a slow breath and tried to school his expression into mild disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” she whined. “It’s just… you know… kind of gross.”

_No, it’s not,_ he wanted to say. _I’ve done it twice now and I loved it,_ he wanted to say.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said instead.

“Can we just,” she gestured awkwardly, “you know, the normal way?”

“Sure,” he said and bit back a sigh.

She lay down on her back and he rolled over to hover on top of her. He trailed two fingers down her body and between her legs. She sighed happily somewhere above him. _As if we don’t do this literally every time._ He tried to squash the bitterness. He was getting laid. His wife was beautiful and she loved him. He had nothing to complain about.

He played around with his fingers for a minute, spreading the moisture from her entrance around her clit – to great success, judging by her noises. After quickly grabbing a condom, he had to jerk himself a few times to get his erection going again, then once he was hard enough he positioned himself and slowly penetrated her.

She was so soft. Her body enclosed his cock like a warm glove. Even if the routine wasn’t terribly exciting, this just felt good every time. He groaned happily.

Gohan pumped into her slowly. He knew Videl liked a languid start to the proceedings before he sped up, and he prided himself on generally making her come at least once before he chased his own release in earnest.

“Oh, that’s good!” Videl moaned. Her inner walls clenched around him, sending a jolt of pleasure up his cock.

He kept thrusting gently, and it was nice. Videl wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper and he had to keep his movements shallow for a minute to keep control.

The noises she made were so feminine, breathless, high-pitched and sweet.

A man would grunt and groan more deeply. He would love to hear that one day.

He wondered what penetrating a man would feel like, and suddenly he saw Vegeta in front of him, his glorious ass flexing around Gohan’s cock, his back glistening with sweat all over his beautifully chiseled back muscles, a deep groan torn from his throat – and that was it, he could not hold back now for the life of him, he pistoned into his wife deep and hard, taking just enough care to not actually hurt her as he thrust in sudden desperation. She yelped in surprise but he barely heard her as his orgasm broke over him after a mere ten seconds. His cock spurted four, five, six times as he lay there on top of his wife, panting, eyes firmly closed. Vegeta. _Vegeta._ He hoped he hadn’t said the name out loud.

He lay awake afterwards in their huge bed, as usual with a large gap between him and his wife. They were accustomed to sleeping far away from each other, ever since Gohan had accidentally broken her femur bone during one of their first nights together. They had agreed that it was safer for them not to touch while Gohan was asleep.

He felt restless.

The sex hadn’t satisfied him at all. Instead, it had just increased his frustration. There was an itch inside him that he didn’t know how to scratch.

Well, okay, he knew exactly how.

But that wasn’t an option.

Or was it?

He was going to meet Vegeta for sparring, anyway. Videl wouldn't know. She wouldn't find out at all. As far as she knew, he would be meeting Piccolo – though why he felt the need to hide sparring sessions from her, he wasn’t sure.

So whatever happened with Vegeta on those days, she wouldn’t suspect anything.

If they did it again, just _if_ , just _hypothetically_ , he would very probably get away with it.

He might do it again, just once. To get it out of his system.

Really. Just one more time.

His whole body tingled at the very thought.

Really. Just once.

He cringed.

He was so doomed, wasn’t he?

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

_Featuring: Going for a swim. Well, mostly._

  
  


He knew he should be missing his dad right about now. If he hadn't been off training in Otherworld, Goku would have been the one getting Gohan back in shape, and that would be a lot more fun.

However, Gohan thought, watching Vegeta stretching his back languidly, _this_ obviously had its perks. What a perfect body. He was secretly glad his dad wasn’t there.

“Right,” the prince cracked his knuckles. “Let's get to it, then. We didn't get to do much sparring the last time, we've got to make up for it.”

Gohan was surprised Vegeta would even broach the subject, let alone be so blunt about it. He himself would probably die of mortification if he said something like that.

“Yeah, okay,” he said resignedly.

Vegeta blinked. “What, aren't you looking forward to it?” He said it as though he could hardly imagine such a thing. Gohan smiled, reminded strongly of his father. Vegeta and Goku had little in common overall, but their obsession with fighting and training was the same. Neither could believe it when other people didn't share their passion.

“I might if I stood a chance,” he answered, grimacing. “But you're just too fast for me.”

Vegeta frowned. “I'm not.”

Gohan looked at him exasperatedly. Was Vegeta fishing for compliments? “Sure you are. I could barely dodge your punches that first time!”

“But not because I'm that much faster than you physically,” Vegeta explained calmly. “Not at this level. It's your reflexes. You need practice reacting more quickly.”

“Oh,” Gohan said, thinking this over. “You think so?”

“It's obvious. You're slow to _dodge_ my attacks, but you're surprisingly quick on the offense. When you're _acting_ instead of _re_ acting. I could barely block you, either. So as soon as that was clear, I tried to keep you in the defensive. That's why you felt slow.”

“Oh,” Gohan said again, relieved. “So you think I'll be able to keep up with you better if I sharpen my senses and reflexes again?”

“Don't doubt it,” Vegeta shrugged.

Gohan grinned broadly. Vegeta didn't think he was a lost cause! “That's great! I'll do my best then, you just wait! Thanks, Vegeta! It's... very nice of you to say these things.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “I'm stating facts, not dishing out compliments. Now let's get started before I fall asleep with boredom.”

  
  


****

  
  


Two hours and several bruised ribs later, Gohan dropped to the ground gasping for breath, landing unsteadily on his hands and knees.

Vegeta floated down casually nearby, with his arms crossed and his expression blank – or maybe a bit smug. “Done?”

“Yeah,” Gohan panted. He turned around and flopped onto his back. “Sorry. Can't move another inch.”

He saw Vegeta rolling his eyes and had to suppress a smile at the predictable characteristic gesture.

“Fine,” the prince said with a sigh. Gohan expected him to fly off without a goodbye again and was already half sitting up to protest. Instead, Vegeta walked over to him, crouching down next to him and offering him a senzu.

“Thanks,” Gohan said, trying not to let his surprise show. He chewed the bean quickly and swallowed it to feel the wonderful rush of warmth through his entire body. The magic of these beans never ceased to amaze him. He had tried to methodically analyze their components once, but hadn't really been surprised when he hadn't gotten any results. There were just things in his life that science couldn't explain.

Vegeta huffed. “You'll need them less and less. But for now, why not.”

“Right,” Gohan said, hoping his face didn't show how happy that simple statement made him. It meant Vegeta was planning to continue these sessions for a while longer. Gohan had _hoped_ for that, of course, but he couldn't shake the worry that the prince would decide he wasn't worth the effort and end their arrangement.

Of course, the sparring wasn't Gohan's only motivation for being there today.

Or even his primary one.

“There is a little lake nearby,” he said, attempting to sound casual. “I saw it when I got here.”

“I know,” Vegeta said.

“We could... clean up,” Gohan suggested carefully.

_Smooth_ , his brain said. _Subtle. Not._

Vegeta looked at him, his eyes narrowing. _Oh Kami, he knows exactly what I'm trying to do,_ he thought helplessly. _Darn it._

“Fine,” Vegeta said after a pause. “Let's go, then.”

*****

  
  


They tapped down on the shore of the small lake. Gohan dropped his backpack in the sand and busied himself for a moment with checking that all necessary items were still where he had packed them, under the pretense of taking off his shoes.

When he straightened up and turned around to wade into the lake, he realized that the other was ahead of him both in terms of progress into the water and in terms of undressing.

It was the first time he could see Vegeta actually _naked_ , and oh, wasn't that a sight. Exactly why Gohan had suggested a swim.

His expression must have shown his appreciation – when he raised his eyes to Vegeta's face again, the older Saiyan had arched one eyebrow. “Nothing you haven't seen before.”

“Not in full frontal, I haven't,” Gohan replied with a happy grin.

Vegeta chuckled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “All right, then. Strip. Let's see _your_ goods.”

Obediently, Gohan shed his smelly training outfit and tossed the clothes back to the shore to land with his boots. Standing naked in the shallow water under the scrutiny of the prince made him feel a bit exposed. He wasn't usually self-conscious about his looks – he couldn't have put on weight or grown body hair in unwanted places even if he had tried – but Vegeta's approval was too important to him to remain uninterested.

“Turn on the spot,” Vegeta instructed. “ _Slowly_ ,” he added when Gohan had moved too fast. Gohan obeyed.

“Your ass is nice,” Vegeta commented when he had reached about a half-turn. Gohan failed to suppress a smile. Turning his head back, he asked in what he hoped was a confident tone: “Wanna come and get it?”

Vegeta pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. He waded towards Gohan's spot nearer the shore until he was directly behind him. Gohan's pulse sped up. “Is that why we're here, then?” Vegeta said silkily, biting gently along his spine between his shoulder blades and running his hands down his sides. “I've been wondering.”

Gohan wasn't sure what to say. Would it count against him if he admitted to his very _unclean_ intentions? “If you don't mind one more time,” he said finally, cringing inwardly at this choice of words.

Vegeta snorted. “Ask any man in the world that, _do you mind if we fuck?_ I'm pretty sure they'll all say no.”

“Sooo...?” Gohan asked hopefully. Vegeta was getting hard, he could feel the heat of it against his thigh.

“I don't fuck men before they've washed,” Vegeta said.

And Gohan was unexpectedly flung backwards, dropping into the water in the middle of the lake with a yelp.

_That's the second time in two weeks_ , he mused, calming down under water. _What is it with people throwing me into cold lakes?_

Well, if Vegeta wanted to play, he'd play.

Remembering an old trick, he let two balls of ki form in his hands. Sustaining them carefully, he kept them in place with his willpower while he himself swam back towards the shore. He kept his own ki very low. Once he had gained a good distance, he paused to aim.

Concentrating on Vegeta's ki, he flung one of the balls at it out of the water. He could sense Vegeta dodging it. It had worked! He grinned to himself, careful not to swallow any water. Now for the other one. He aimed and shot it at Vegeta's ki again. Immediately, he launched himself out of the water to attack the prince from the back – but he wasn’t there. A lonely ball of ki floated in mid-air.

“If you thought I’d fall for that, we really have to get to know each other better,” a dark voice said behind him.

He turned, not sure what to expect, and almost swallowed his tongue. Damn, but _amused_ was a good look on the naked prince. Those twinkling eyes made his insides squirm with need.

“I was hoping we might,” he said slightly breathlessly.

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. “Right. So you said.”

He drifted off towards the shore and Gohan was quick to follow him, giddy with anticipation. He landed right next to him, dying to touch the prince but unsure whether he was allowed.

“I’m, uh, clean now,” he pointed out. “Very clean. Everywhere. If you want to check.”

The prince snorted in amusement, a sound that made Gohan’s heart skip in triumph. It wasn’t easy to get signs of any emotion out of that man, and he had already done it, what, three times today?

“Get on your hands and knees,” Vegeta said casually.

Gohan dropped. The position made him feel vulnerable. He didn’t believe Vegeta would hurt him (why should he?) but it was still a bit difficult to relax with the most powerful being on the planet standing in a dead angle behind you.

But then a hand ran down his spine, unexpectedly gentle, and all his back muscles relaxed in its wake. If he’d been able to, he would have purred.

  
  


******

  
  


Damn, the boy really had a nice ass. Especially offered up like that for his prince.

Vegeta watched the muscles below him shift as Gohan’s whole body seemed to ready itself for him.

Such a strong, powerful body but his behavior so soft and pliant, so wonderfully submissive, letting Vegeta just _claim_ and _take_ to his heart’s content. Back on his home planet, a Saiyan like that would have had legions of elite suitors salivating after his tail.

He sighed inwardly. A nice fluffy tail really was the only thing missing from this perfect ass.

“Now,” he said, “since you've clearly been planning this session – did you happen to bring certain... paraphernalia?” Lube would certainly make the going easier even if Gohan-the-pain-slut didn’t think it was necessary.

“Backpack,” Gohan said softly. “Front pocket.”

Vegeta pushed his head down towards the sand. “Stay,” he commanded, getting up to walk towards their things. There was a tube of lubrication in the indicated pocket as well as two phallic toys, but no condom. Vegeta hesitated. _Oh well_ , he thought then. Diseases were practically impossible with their Saiyan immune system. And anything else, he'd just have to risk. It was highly unlikely anyway, with Gohan being a demi.

Turning back with the lube in his hand, he was pleasantly surprised to find the kid still in exactly the same position he had left him. Apparently he did like to obey orders.

He ran his finger slowly down Gohan's spine again and listened to his breath hitch.

His own excitement was mounting, but he could afford another moment to savor it. Who knew when the next opportunity would arise? Possibly never. Gohan had said “one more time”. Such a shame. He was just starting to get used to it.

“Ask nicely,” he commanded.

Gohan licked his lips. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please... please fuck me?”

Vegeta sighed. “Kid, if we're going to do this, you're going to have to learn to _elaborate_. Let me know you _want_ it. Let me know _why_ should I fuck you.”

There was a pause. Then, Gohan said, “Because I want you. Because I need it. Because I've been thinking of nothing else all week. Because you drive me insane with your smirking and your staring... Because my body needs more than any human could give me. Please.”

Not bad for starters, Vegeta had to admit. But he was sure he could squeeze a little more out of him.

“That's reasons for _you_ ,” he said, pulling on Gohan's hair and eliciting a pained hiss. “What's in it for me? This is a _reward_ for you, little slut, not a punishment. What have you done to deserve it?”

The boy paused for a few seconds. Then he mumbled something.

"What's that?" Vegeta said impatiently, once more tugging sharply on Gohan's hair.

After a gasp of pain, he received his answer more clearly: “I'm your only loyal subject.”

Vegeta threw his head back and laughed. He could feel the brat stilling underneath him, probably afraid he had said the wrong thing.

“Fuck you, kid,” he said, but his voice held more amusement and less bite than he had hoped. _Fuck you for being right._

“Yes, please,” Gohan whispered. This time, the simple plea was enough.

Contrary to what he had said the last time, Vegeta did know that Gohan was a virgin – in this sense, at least. It was obvious from the way he acted that he had never been with a man, never been dominated. But he was still half Saiyan, and his body was prepared for this. It yielded to the intrusion the way it was meant to. He briefly wondered if the boy was aware of this.

But Saiyan sex ed would have to wait.

He squeezed some of the lubrication on his finger and prepared Gohan’s entrance quickly and efficiently. This alone drove the boy to very audible expressions of his pleasure again. Damn, he was loud. It was a good thing they were far from other humans.

He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the quivering thigh in front of him before lining himself up for the main act. A small moan escaped him as he sank deep into the warm body. From the groan he could hear below him, he wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

Holding Gohan in place with a hand on his shoulder, he began a slow, leisurely pace of thrusts. He was going to take his time again this time. The previous week, he had been almost desparately horny from the adrenaline of an unexpected fight and had chased release without properly appreciating the act itself. This time, he would be slow and relentless, bringing the boy to at least two orgasms before his own. He liked challenging himself, after all.

“Kami,” Gohan panted softly. “Kami, this is so good.”

He chuckled, but privately he could only agree. Hot, tighter than Bulma had been, and slick enough from the lubrication even if Gohan had none of the fluids true Saiyans produced to ease the way.

Nice.

Vegeta hid his own small sounds of pleasure in the symphony Gohan was singing below him. He grinned to himself at how easily excitable the boy was. It was deeply gratifying.

He’d never thought he’d have a thing for virgins (if anything, the opposite), but he had to admit he was enjoying the way even the tiniest touch seemed to set Gohan on fire and had him moaning and groaning unashamedly. As if he _lived_ to be impaled on Vegeta's cock.

With a smirk, he buried himself to the hilt, pressing deep into the other man’s body, and then withdrew so slowly that Gohan was practically sobbing by the time he was finished. Then he thrust back in swiftly and forcefully, and Gohan howled like an Oozaru at the full moon.

Vegeta smiled, knowing no one could see it.

Such a lovely plaything.

Once again, Gohan showed no stamina at all. His first orgasm overtook him after only a couple of minutes as he frantically worked his own dick, and Vegeta had to still himself for a moment to be able to fight the temptation of following him right down into bliss. The clench around his cock felt incredible, and Gohan’s noises…

He got himself under control just in time, but it was a close call.

In revenge, he picked up a more brutal pace once Gohan’s breathing had calmed down from the high. The kid whimpered loudly but didn’t ask him to stop. Vegeta wasn’t sure if he would have stopped even if asked.

Belatedly, he remembered that Gohan required certain additional services to truly enjoy himself. He knew this was the only reason the boy was doing this with _him_. He couldn't kid himself on this part – the main attraction Gohan saw in him was the potential to get hurt, something that literally no one else on the planet could give him.

Well, he was a generous prince.

There wasn’t much he could do in this position – Gohan’s limbs were off limits because he needed them to hold himself up. He would have loved to swat that gorgeous ass, but the angle was too awkward. Hmmm.

Now, what he _could_ do…

He charged his finger with ki and touched it to the flawless skin of Gohan’s back. The boy yelped in surprise, then moaned and pushed his ass back more fervently. “Oh, Kami,” he moaned. “Yesss.”

Vegeta was happy to oblige. Trailing his finger over Gohan’s back, he drew a little criss-cross pattern into the skin. The burns stood out black and smoked slightly. The skin in the immediate vicinity turned an angry red. Judging from Gohan’s hisses, they stung like a bitch too.

The smell of burning flesh made Vegeta's instincts purr with satisfied bloodlust, only serving to increase his arousal. But the activity gave him a welcome distraction from his other one. He kept thrusting lightly but the drawing helped him keep focus and draw his own pleasure out.

Gohan on the other hand was estatic. It wasn’t long before a second orgasm tore through him, this time with his cock untouched.

Mission accomplished.

Vegeta breathed more easily in relief. Now that his goal was met, he could let himself go.

Gohan was keening underneath him, but still wasn’t protesting despite the overstimulation. He must have liked it, the little slut. Vegeta smirked breathlessly and filed this information away for later. He might get another go at this ass at some point. You never knew.

Struggling to keep quiet himself now, Vegeta shifted for a better angle and then began pounding into Gohan the way he had been denying himself all this time.

“Kami,” Gohan was babbling, “Vegeta, Vegeta, I’m… oh Kami….”

“Fuck,” Vegeta breathed. He could feel his release building deep in his abdomen like an ominous storm cloud, an unstoppable force threatening to break at any second now.

Following a sudden inspiration, he used the last area of unmarred skin on Gohan’s left shoulderblade to sketch an actual design. He might not have seen it in decades, but it was etched into his own memory as he was now etching it into living flesh – his family’s royal coat of arms.

He barely had time to finish it, the last strokes hurried and slightly messy, before he really could not wait any longer. He grabbed Gohan’s shoulders with both hands, thrust into him desperately, and let his own release finally, finally wash over him.

*****

  
  


Although the lookout had long ago become Dende‘s, Piccolo was always welcomed there and visited the place often.

He also enjoyed the companionship of the other Namekian. He had been a good choice for a guardian, being at once wise and composed beyond his years and also exhibiting a certain sly intelligence sometimes.

„You are thinking of Gohan,“ Dende observed, approaching Piccolo who was standing alone at the edge of the platform.

„That is a safe bet,“ Piccolo replied without looking at him. He thought of no other person as much as he thought of Gohan, and his constant worry had increased in recent weeks. He hesitated. He would of course keep his friend‘s secrets. In any case, he did not feel a need to have long conversations about things that bothered him, like so many humans (and half-Saiyans) seemed to have.

However, Dende was a different matter. The guardian knew better than he did what was happening on the planet. There were hardly any secrets one could keep from him, unless they were stored in the privacy of one’s mind.

„Surely you have seen...“ Piccolo began but did not know how to finish.

„I have,“ Dende confirmed.

After a short pause, Piccolo asked almost tentatively: „What do you think?“

Dende took a moment to answer. „I think Gohan is torn between human values and non-human instincts.“ He sighed. „I do not know which one will win.“

Piccolo pondered this. He knew Gohan well, and judging by the thirty years of their acquaintance, or at least by the most recent twenty years of it, he would always let his human values trump his Saiyan half.

However, he was no longer sure if this principle still held after his friend's recent experiences with Vegeta. Had the Saiyan shaken something inside Gohan? Surely being his Saiyan self from time to time was a strong temptation if he had spent decades suppressing it. Piccolo knew his own instincts – solitude, silence, balance. If he had been forced to live among humans for a long time, unable to give in to these urges, would he not be clamoring for even an hour alone in the desert? And was Gohan‘s need to fight and to mate with one of his own species not comparable to that?

Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised when Dende added very softly: „My feeling tells me his struggle is important for more than his own life.“

Piccolo frowned and turned to look at the younger Namekian. He trusted Dende‘s feelings completely. A guardian of Earth was always endowed, if not with the skill to see the future, then at least with a sense of foreboding when great things were afoot. Dende‘s sense in particular had proven on many past occasions to be astute, possibly more so than Kami‘s had been.

But if Dende had such a sense now, then that begged one essential question. After a second, Piccolo voiced it: „So which side should Gohan let win?“


	8. Chapter 8

_featuring: Saiyans, humans, Namekians and androids side by side on my piaaaaano_

  
  


While the incisions on his back healed up without a trace in a day or two, the memory of their time at the lake was like a bright light in Gohan’s mind for all of the next week. He knew he should feel guilty, and part of him did, but it had so absolutely been worth it. Those few hours with Vegeta would be enough to fuel his fantasies for years.

They certainly were enough to propel him right into orgasm when he was sleeping with Videl these days. All he had to do was close his eyes and think of strong hands on his shoulders and a cock in his ass, and he was a goner.

His hidden toys got a more thorough workout than usual, too.

Yet, as fantastic as it had been, he was determined to keep his resolution.

It had been the last time.

He had needed it after the first two times had excited him to the point of madness, and it had been the only solution to his craving. But he had no intention of starting an actual affair behind his wife’s back, as tempting as it might be.

He would be good from now on.

The first dent in his resolution came the following Thursday when he met Vegeta at the sparring ground and his stomach swooped at the mere sight of him.

But he had a plan, and he had a whole speech prepared. Although, okay, it was a short one. He ran a hand through his hair as the prince looked at him expectantly. “Before we start… I just want to say,” he took a deep breath, “that I would like to restrict this arrangement to sparring from now on.”

Vegeta blinked at him for a second and then gave him a sneering laugh that rang unpleasantly in Gohan’s ears. “Right. Cause I was the one pushing that.”

Gohan’s face burned with shame. “Yeah, no, I know, but...-”

“Is that all?” Vegeta said in his customary bored voice and started rolling his shoulders. “Fine. Between sparring a worthy opponent and fucking an inexperienced kid, I know what I prefer anyway. Let’s go.”

It was a good thing that Gohan needed all of his concentration to dodge blasts and roundhouse kicks in the next minutes. Those words had stung.

Maybe it was due to this disappointment, maybe it was the fact that there would definitely be no sex to follow, but this time their sparring wasn’t nearly as much fun as it had been the times before.

  
  


****

  
  


As if to echo his mood, a slight drizzle had started by the time he left the clearing and flew home.

Only when his sharp Saiyan ears picked up an unusual volume as he was nearing his house, he remembered that Bra and Maron were supposed to be visiting that day.

While Bra and Pan attended the same school and spent a lot of time together outside of it, they only saw their third friend occasionally. Maron lived all the way on the other side of the planet. For the girls, this was a long flight.

And the greater the excitement among the girls was when they _could_ see each other.

He heaved a sigh. He liked Maron, but he really wasn’t up for the inevitable commotion today. All he wanted was some peace and quiet and a good book. Maybe to wallow in his guilt a little. Or to get frisky with his wife to release some of his sexual frustration.

It looked like there would be no such luck for a while.

He touched down on the ground and took a deep breath before entering the house and its vibratingly cheerful atmosphere.

Gohan privately thought the friendship was good for the girls – Maron, though the daughter of two warriors, was even more peace-loving than Pan, hated sparring and would not have gone dinosaur hunting if pursued by a whole horde of the beasts. She liked braiding flowers into flimsy diadems (on one memorable occasion she had been joined in this endeavor by an enthusiastic Simon), spending time with her dog, swimming in the ocean and watching silly cartoons on television.

In short, she was precisely the sort of normal child that no Saiyan offspring had ever been.

Thankfully, she liked painting and books as well, or they’d have had nothing in common at all.

Currently, she seemed to be juggling two entirely separate conversations: one with Pan about the upcoming next part of a book series they were both reading, and one with Bra about their art. There were no adults in sight.

“Hey, you know what? If I made a sketch of the landscape outside, you could paint the colors in later, right? We could have a picture that we both made together!” Bra was practically bouncing with that plan and looked much younger than usual.

“I do more than _coloring_ ,” Maron said in a dignified voice.

Bra waved her off. “But it would be so cool! We would make it _together_!” she said imploringly, as if Maron hadn’t got it the first time around.

“That’s called a collaboration,” Pan piped up. “Anyway, Maron, did you hear that someone's going to _die_ in this one? Oooh, I hope it’s that creepy Frank guy… Hi, dad!”

“Hello,” he said smiling at them. “You seem to be having fun.”

He had not phrased it as a question, but it launched the three girls into an enthusiastic account of everything they had done that afternoon that took almost ten minutes to recount.

By that point, he badly needed a break.

On the pretext of leaving the girls to themselves, he escaped to the patio outside where he found Krillin with a beer bottle in his hands.

“Hi,” Krillin said. “I sensed you in there.” He gestured back at the house. “Would have come in to say hello, but...-” he shrugged.

“Too much commotion,” Gohan agreed with a grin. He sank into a garden chair next to Krillin with a relieved sigh.

“Hey, you’ve been here for ten minutes. I’ve spent all afternoon with them,” Krillin grinned back.

Gohan chuckled. In his weird split-in-two life, Krillin was the only human other than his wife who knew all about his origins and his past. For that fact alone, spending time with him was always a pleasure. He didn’t have to hide any parts of himself there.

Other than the part he’d hidden from everyone for all of his life anyway.

And with that part, he had a feeling he needed to be careful around Krillin in particular. After one conversation they’d had years ago about Tien having picked up a male lover for a while, he had no illusions left on how Krillin felt about homosexuality.

Well, it wasn’t as though he’d talk to him about his affairs with Vegeta even if Krillin had been wearing a rainbow flag. It didn’t matter.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, leaning back relaxed into the chair.

“Great,” his friend answered with a pleased sigh. “Just finished building and painting a new attachment to our house. That’s the second addition since we built the damn thing in the first place. I told Eighteen if we keep expanding it, we’ll need to expand the island as well.”

Gohan laughed. The family lived on a tiny island, barely large enough for the house, a small garden and a place to land their hovercraft.

“And what’s going on with you?” Krillin asked after a sip from his beer.

Gohan quickly cast his mind around for any news that weren’t Vegeta. “The annual Satan Foundation Gala took place a couple of weeks ago.”

Krillin grimaced in sympathy. “The one you always hate going to?”

He nodded. “Just glad I’ve lived through it and won’t have to face another one for a year.”

Krillin clapped a hand on his biceps, apparently not even trying to reach his shoulder. “I mean, if that’s the worst of our problems, we really can’t complain, huh?”

 _The worst of my problems is that I’m a cheating bastard who can’t stop obsessing about his illicit lover._ “Right,” Gohan said with a slightly forced smile. “It’s nice to live in peace.”

Krillin sighed happily again. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Didn’t even really know what that was like. I gotta say, now that I’ve got a family all the fighting stuff just no longer seems to matter all that much, you know?”

“I know,” Gohan said quietly. It had been like that for him too, up until a few weeks ago.

“I’m almost glad Goku’s gone.” Krillin paused. “Sorry, that wasn’t… I mean, I’m sure you miss him.”

Gohan gave him a non-committal grunt. He wasn’t always sure of that himself.

“All I mean is that you seem to attract bad people if you have someone that strong around, you know?” Krillin explained. “I mean, when you think about it – Radditz, and then Frieza and his creepy father, and then the androids, and then Babidi and Boo… they were all kind of here for Goku. Not that it was his fault,” he added hastily with a sidelong glance at Gohan, even though Gohan still hadn’t said anything. “I’m just… glad that’s over for now, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Krillin tilted his bottle all the way back and only a tiny trickle ran down into his throat. He waved the bottle around. “All empty.” He stretched with a yawn. Gohan could see a tiny bit of a belly starting to form on him. It suited him, though.

Peaceful life suited them all.

“Say, what time is it?” Krillin asked him. “Think we could get away with leaving yet? No offense, it was great seeing you, but we’ve been here since lunch and I’m kinda beat.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Gohan said with a smile. “I wouldn't mind some peace and quiet myself, actually.”

“Awesome. Think you could go and respectfully ask my boss this question? She’s with Videl. I’d go, but...-” he gestured through the wall to the living room which was ringing with the girls’ laughter.

“Oh, is she here too?” Gohan said. It was always slightly unnerving that he could sense anyone on the planet except for Eighteen and her brothers. “I’ll go, I guess I should say hello anyway before you guys leave.”

“Great,” Krillin yawned again and dropped back into his garden chair with his eyes closed. “Let me know.” Gohan gave him another fond smile and went inside.

He made his way past the girls who were thankfully too engrossed in their conversation to even notice him, and safely reached the kitchen where he encountered his wife and Eighteen.

“Gohan!” Videl sighed with relief. “Thank Kami you’re here. That can be my reason to announce dinner and get them all to _leave_.”

“Rude.” Eighteen smirked, reminding Gohan so forcefully of Vegeta that he had to swallow to get his bearings back. “You do realize I’m right here.”

“Pfft, as if you’re enjoying this,” Videl grinned. “ _You_ host the three kids next time.”

“No.” Eighteen turned her icey stare on Gohan. “So how was sparring with Piccolo?”

With a sudden jolt, Gohan realized that Eighteen had to know _exactly_ who he’d just met. Unlike Videl, she could easily sense ki at that distance. Krillin could too, but Gohan had a good feeling he wasn’t paying much attention these days. He met the android’s cold blue eyes and made a quick decision. “Fine.”

“Right.” She stared at him for another two seconds, then turned away. “Videl, I’d say: take this cue. They’ve had enough time together. I’ll be glad to be getting home too, actually. We can take Bra with us and drop her off at Capsule Corp.”

“Great!” Videl clapped her hands and bustled out of the kitchen.

Gohan barely heard them. His heart thumped in his chest. If Eighteen and Videl had been talking all afternoon, had Eighteen already mentioned that Gohan was meeting Vegeta and not Piccolo? Did Videl know now that he’d been lying to her for weeks? Was she going to confront him after dinner?

Eighteen strode serenely after his wife, arms still crossed. When she was level with Gohan, she murmured “Relax!” at him out of the corner of her mouth. He stared at her. She gave him a quick wink, her face otherwise expressionless as always, and followed Videl out.

Somehow he was not altogether reassured.

******

  
  


One week later, Vegeta was brimming with anticipation for another session with his promising new sparring partner. Gohan’s decision to stop having sexual relations had not put a damper on his enthusiasm. Though admittedly a little disappointing, it had been expected. Gohan had a partner, and Saiyans were generally very loyal creatures. To be honest, Vegeta had been surprised that the boy had let it go that far at all.

So that was over now. But Vegeta was determined to keep Gohan entertained enough to keep showing up for sparring because he’d be damned if he gave up this opportunity at a regular decent match.

He had a good plan for this session. There was only one thing he had to take care of before.

“I’m leaving,” Vegeta said, opening one of the hallway windows and deftly climbing into its frame. He never saw the point of maneuvering the entire building just to reach a ground floor door whenever he wanted to leave. “Trunks, watch Bra and make sure she doesn’t leave the premises. She’s grounded again.”

“Oooh, why?” Trunks asked with a malicious grin at his little sister.

She glared at him. “None of your business.”

“I agree,” Vegeta said. “Just keep her here. I’ll know if you have managed that.”

Both his children turned scowling glances at him. “But I was going to...-” Trunks began. Vegeta interrupted him: “You keep your sister on the ground.”

“Or what?” Trunks asked rebelliously.

“Or I’ll tell your mother,” Vegeta said and left through the window. He carefully closed it from the outside and took off towards the usual place.

Thursdays had become one of the highlights of his week – the others being Mrs Briefs’ meatloaf on Sunday nights and the Saturdays that he often spent somewhere in the wild with Bra.

Sparring with Gohan was undeniably doing him good. He had noticed that he had shorter and more vague nightmares in the nights from Thursday to Friday. That alone would have made any sparring partner worth it, however annoying. But he had to admit that Gohan was actually bearable company. He might have inherited some of Kakarott’s goofy manner but he was overall more serious. At least Vegeta didn’t want to roll his eyes at him every single time he opened his mouth.

And if nothing else, he was nice to look at.

For their session today, Vegeta had something new in mind. He had gotten familiar enough with Gohan’s strength and style over the past month that he felt confident progressing to something different and reaping the benefits for himself for once. He wanted to improve too, after all. It wasn’t just charity.

But if he was lucky, the variety would also serve to keep Gohan around.

The boy was already waiting, swinging his arms in a slightly ridiculous fashion apparently for a warm-up. “Hi, Vegeta,” he said cheerfully.

Vegeta didn’t bother with a reply to this. He stopped in mid-air, a little bit above Gohan’s head so that he was looking down on him. For a second, he hesitated and wondered whether he could really go through with his plan. But he saw Gohan looking up at him, serious now, trusting and so _good_. Like Kakarott. You could trust this man with your life if you had to, Vegeta suspected. If you were the type of person who could truly trust.

“We’ve been hewing and stabbing blindly this past month,” he said loudly, “so that I could evaluate your strength. It’s time for a more structured approach now.”

Gohan gave him a thoughtful frown and nodded. He didn’t argue that he was already an experienced warrior, he didn’t roll his eyes at the idea of being _taught_.

Vegeta's respect for him rose a little bit.

“Tell me what to do,” Gohan said with a smile. “Your command is my command, my prince.”

Vegeta suppressed a smirk at the quip. The boy had a unique brand of taking his royal status seriously and lightly at the same time. It was refreshing. All the other people in his life simply ignored his rank.

„Ascend.“

Obediently as ever, the boy transformed into a Super Saiyan. Vegeta was pleased to note that it already seemed to come easier to him than when they had started sparring together. He was actually making progress, even with their sexual activities distracting him in the beginning. He clearly worked out on his own a lot as well.

„Higher.“

Gohan‘s eyebrows rose, but he assumed a fighting stance without comment and powered up further. The rush of true Saiyan power so close by gave Vegeta a certain thrill.

„That should do.“ He landed and assumed a defensive position. „Ready?“

„Wait, what?“ Gohan blinked at him. „You‘re going to fight me like this? While you‘re weaker than me?“

Vegeta glared. „Yes. Don‘t make me regret it.“ _And don‘t kill me_ , he wanted to add, but that would have sounded rather pathetic.

A happy grin spread across Gohan‘s face that reminded Vegeta forcefully of Kakarott. „Oh, I won‘t. Let‘s get to it then.“

He moved faster than Vegeta had expected.

He managed to fling the ki ball off but was slightly alarmed by its power. He had to fight his instinct to ascend as well and defend himself with all the considerable strength he had at his disposal. But that was not the point today.

He struggled to evade the blows, knowing they would _hurt_ while he was at this low power level. Since he could not block them, he had no way of stopping Gohan’s rhythm or momentum so it was nearly impossible for him to attack in turn. He had to find an opening. He had to be cunning.

Unfortunately, for all of his low self-esteem Gohan was experienced and perceptive enough to not make this easy.

Trunks would have given him five openings in the first two minutes, Vegeta thought with a slight bitterness. Where had he gone wrong training his son? If Gohan could do it, so could Trunks.

His distraction earned him a painful blow to his ribs and he spun in the air, trying to regain his balance. But it was too late. Gohan used his moment of weakness to deal another blow to the same spot, followed by one to the other side, and then hit him with a ki blast that sent him crashing into the ground.

Gohan was on top of him before he could get up. The boy was grinning in triumph.

Vegeta knew he should be angry, but this was exactly the kind of challenge he had been hoping for today. He smirked back. “More,” he said.

“With pleasure,” Gohan said and helped him to his feet before they both launched back into the air for the next round.

****

„That was great,“ Gohan told him later, his arms covered in beads of sweat that Vegeta unexpectedly wanted to lick off him. Too bad that that was out of the question now. „Thank you, Vegeta.“

He rolled his eyes. „That wasn‘t for you, moron. That was for me. Can‘t get stronger if I only spar with weak little shits all the time.“

„Ah,“ understanding seemed to dawn on the kid. Had he not grasped the concept before now? Kakarott must have neglected his non-physical education terribly.

„So you don’t do this with Trunks for example?“ Gohan asked interestedly.

„No,“ he said curtly.

„Oh. Why not?“

Vegeta opened his mouth and closed it again. He was well aware that the reply ‚I don‘t trust him not to accidentally kill me‘ would come across as ‚You‘re the only one I trust not to accidentally kill me‘, which was the unfortunate truth. As long as Kakarott was away, anyway.

He shrugged instead.

„See you next week.“

  
  


*****

Gohan waited until Vegeta had become a tiny speck in the sky before he finally, finally let himself move his hand to his crotch and squeeze his cock through his gi. He moaned loudly.

Kami, but he needed that.

Moving quickly to a more secluded clump of rocks where he would be hidden from view, not that anyone was around for miles, he loosened the string on his gi and thrust his hand inside. He had to lean back into a rock for support as he found a good grip on his cock and began moving his hand furiously.

He’d had to restrain himself from doing this for the past half an hour.

 _Vegeta_. Vegeta underneath him for once, pinned to the ground. Vegeta, his hair whipping around his face as he turned gracefully in the air. Vegeta's eyes sparkling with excitement.

Gohan moaned again.

At least he didn’t have to bother keeping quiet out here. He let himself make all the noise he wanted as he fisted himself roughly. Considering how desperately aroused their sparring session had left him, it was surprising that he lasted almost a full minute and a half before he collapsed gasping, coming in thick spurts all over his fingers and the ground.

Yes, this was his life now, he thought miserably. Sparring with Vegeta and then reduced to masturbating with the desperation of a thirteen-year-old.

Looking around for something to clean himself with, he was annoyed to remember that there weren’t even any leafy plants left in this barren area. Even with Saiyan skin, he was not going to clean his most sensitive parts with the twigs of thorn bushes.

Sighing, he flew over to the nearby lake for a quick wash instead.

As he scrubbed at his arms and legs in the cold water, he contemplated what to do with the rest of the afternoon.

Somehow he didn’t want to go home yet.

It was stupid, really. Videl wouldn't know that he had been with Vegeta, and even if she found out, the _sparring_ was defensible. And that was all they were doing (now). She wouldn't know that he had masturbated afterwards, and even if she found out, there was nothing wrong with that. That wasn’t cheating. It didn’t count.

But even so, he felt too... _contaminated_ to talk to her right away.

Casting his mind around for something plausible to do, he remembered that he was almost out of senzus. Yes. A visit to the Lookout would cheer him up.

  
  


****

  
  


He found Dende alone at the edge of the Lookout.

“Hi Dende,” he said, tapping down on the worn stone nearby. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hello,” Dende greeted him with a smile. “I can’t say the same.” He pointed into the clouds below them. “But it is nice to be closer than that every once in a while. What can I do for you?”

Gohan held up the little pouch of beans, almost empty. “I’d like a senzu refill if you don’t mind.”

Dende seemed surprised by this somehow. “Oh. Of course,” he said. “Come with me.”

They walked towards the back of the palace together, where a little patch of earth held the world’s only cultivation of the precious magical beans. A good dozen of them were ripe, and Dende carefully plucked those pods off the stems to drop them into the pouch Gohan held open.

Gohan usually experienced Dende’s silence as comfortable – probably because he had grown up with Piccolo who never talked much either. This time, however, he wished the guardian would hurry up with the whole procedure or at least say _something_. Preferably something other than questions about his affair with Vegeta. The silence felt too judgmental. He was sure that Dende was thinking about it.

Sure enough, as they were making their way back to the front of the palace Dende gently took his elbow. “Gohan,” he said kindly. “If you want to talk about it, you know I'm your friend, yes?”

Gohan cringed. “You must see everything from up here.”

Dende smiled sadly. “Don't worry. I see a lot worse.”

“That doesn't make it okay.”

“No,” Dende conceded, “but the guilt you feel makes it a little better, at least.”

Gohan snorted humorlessly. He would have loved to not feel the guilt, to be able to cheat on his wife without the slightest bit of remorse like so many other men in the world. To be a jerk. To not care. “Why?”

“Because it shows you wouldn't have started this affair if it wasn't such a strong desire, such a deep need that it can override all of your principles, even including your loyalty to Videl,” Dende answered seriously. “You wouldn't do this if you didn't crave it very badly.”

“I’m not having an _affair_ ,” Gohan protested, trying to keep his shame from tipping over into anger. “I’m not doing it again. That time by the lake was the last time, honest!”

Dende hummed gently.

“ _What_?” Gohan said, his teeth now slightly gritted. “Can you see the future now?”

The guardian looked at him calmly. “Can’t _you_?”

Gohan deflated. His anger made way for the deep unease he had felt ever since his first sparring session with Vegeta. He was afraid that a part of him he had always kept under tight wraps was now becoming too strong to control. He swallowed. “Obviously I want it. Crave it. Yes. But the fact that I want it doesn't make it okay.”

Dende hummed again. “The fact that you _need_ it might.”

Gohan looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you think...” he hesitated, “do you think he...” He shook his head, smiling crookedly. “No, never mind, I don't even want to know.”

Dende smiled. “You'll know where to find me if you have any questions.”

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

_featuring: Vegeta's new haircut and some background cows._

Vegeta left the gravity room with his hair still a bit wet. He had taken a shower after his workout in the small bathroom attached to the GR. Even if his sessions with Gohan no longer included sexual activities he still liked looking presentable for them.

He made his way over to the closest door, ready to take off, when his daughter's voice called over to him. “Hey Dad, wanna play Risk?”

“Uh,” he said, feeling strangely stupid. “No. Not now. I’m going out.”

She looked puzzled. She was not used to being refused like that. “Where are you going, Dad?”

He hesitated. He hadn’t yet told anyone, not even Bulma, that he was sparring with Kakarott’s son. It wasn’t a _secret_ as such but somehow he felt that this arrangement was not there to share with anyone else just yet. It was just his for now. He still had to see how it would develop over time.

“Out,” he repeated simply.

He turned before she could ask any further questions and left the building to take to the air. He hoped his daughter would just forget his mysterious trip and not ask further questions when he came back. Or worse, tell her mother about it.

As he was flying he wondered what would happen if he told Bulma he’d been meeting Gohan. If he told her he’d had _sex_ with Gohan. Nothing, obviously. They weren’t partners anymore and he was free to do whatever he wanted. But somehow the thought made him very uncomfortable nevertheless. He still felt he owed her a certain loyalty. Yes, he’d had sex since they’d broken up. Twice. He’d told her both times and they’d shared a hearty laugh at the uselessness of human men.

But that had been different. Those had been strangers. Gohan was someone they knew.

Bulma was friends with Videl too – what if she told her?

He frowned at his line of thought. Who cared if the harpy found out? That was Gohan’s problem. If he didn’t want his partner to catch him cheating, he shouldn't cheat. It was as simple as that. It wasn’t Vegeta's responsibility by any stretch of the imagination.

He tapped down at the sparring ground and passed the time with light stretches while he waited for Gohan’s ki that was already getting closer.

“Hi,” Gohan said cheerfully when he landed next to him two minutes later. “Sorry I’m a bit late, I didn’t mean to be, but I was...-” Vegeta punched him in the chest, effectively cutting his boring apology short.

The boy gasped in pain, but just two seconds later he was grinning. He launched himself at the prince and they began a fierce match that was definitely worth waiting a week for.

Vegeta _liked_ working with Gohan, was the thing. He had much of Kakarott’s enthusiasm but some of his moves were more calculated. More… cold. Was that the Namekian’s influence, perhaps? Whatever it was, the blend made it interesting. In a way Gohan’s style was not unlike his own.

Sadly, he still lacked in the department of raw power. And so Vegeta found himself slightly frustrated when, two hours later, Gohan dropped to the ground with a relieved sigh and his hair turning back to black.

The kid was clearly not up for anything more today.

 _He,_ on the other hand, was brimming with unused energy. What he _really_ wanted, what would really _satisfy_ him, was going all out. He knew he couldn't do that with his new sparring partner without seriously endangering him, not yet at any rate. Vegeta was no fool, he knew he should not overtax him. If nothing else, that might make him rethink their arrangement and he didn’t want to risk that.

But maybe... he could at least show him.

“Do you want to see something cool?” he asked casually.

“Sure,” Gohan said, blinking up at him with a lazy smile, propping himself up on his hands.

_Right. Show time._

Getting into his preferred stance, Vegeta began by gradually tensing up every single muscle in his body and then began to slowly raise his ki.

Gohan watched him powering up with interest and a certain amount of what was clearly admiration.

He soon breached level two, the air around him crackling. He was sweating profusely already but he pushed his body to steeper heights, drawing every last bit of ki out of hiding. _Only a bit more…_ He gritted his teeth. He was almost there, drawing close to the brink he knew was coming...-

And then he cleared the threshold of level three. He felt the sudden power rush through him like a wave and he roared to make way for it. His hair grew rapidly until it was hanging down to his knees with an unfamiliar weight. His limbs felt simultaneously stronger than ever and somehow awkwardly unwieldy, like a large heavy hammer he was not sure how to handle.

Gohan’s jaw dropped. “Kami… that’s…”

Vegeta didn’t trust himself to speak. It took all of his concentration to control the power inside him. His body trembled under the force of it. He kept it up for five more seconds… ten… then he let go. His power level dropped very sharply, his hair retracted back into his scalp and – he was a regular Super Saiyan.

He could breathe again.

Unclenching his fists, he relaxed into a more comfortable position and wiped his brow. He was thirsty. It had only been one or two minutes of exertion but these attempts exhausted him more than two hours of regular sparring did.

He reached for the water bottle, hoping that his utter exhaustion wasn’t too obvious.

Gohan was in awe. “That's _amazing_ , Vegeta!”

Vegeta grinned. “I know.” Even he couldn't feign nonchalance at a feat like this one. It was his greatest achievement in years.

“You're _gorgeous_ like that!”

Vegeta blinked. _That_ he hadn't expected. Or considered.

Apparently, Gohan had not planned on saying it, either, as he hastily added: “It's clearly a huge increase in ki.”

Vegeta nodded. “It is.”

He wasn't usually one to openly flaunt his achievements, but he had been bursting to tell someone about this one for _months_. It was times like this that he seriously missed Kakarott, the big lump. He would have been so excited...

Then again, his son was doing a very good impression of him right now, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes almost popping with childish excitement.

“It's not stable yet,” he conceded, wiping the sweat off his brow again. “But once it is, I want you to spar with me. I need some practice with it. I’m not sure what to do about all the hair. It just seems impractical.”

Gohan laughed.

It was contagious enough that Vegeta couldn't help another small grin.

  
  


*****

  
  


Gohan stared listlessly after Vegeta who was a fading spot in the sky. After his spectacular show of transforming into a level three Super Saiyan, the prince had clearly been tired and had flown off home a minute later taking Gohan’s good mood with him.

He sighed, his shoulders drooping.

This kind of arrangement was half satisfying and half very, very frustrating. He almost wished he’d never slept with Vegeta at all and didn’t know what he was missing.

Almost.

While the sparring was surprisingly fun by now, he couldn't kid himself on the fact that he wished for more than just that.

But there was nothing he could do about it. He could try and seduce Vegeta again but he knew that one more time would not satisfy his desire. He’d just have to live with it.

The question was: would it be easier to live with it if they no longer sparred together? Was the regular reminder a dangerous temptation, or was the desensitization actually helpful?

And Gohan was still determined to reach and maintain his old power level. There was nothing on earth better for this plan than sparring with Vegeta. That was just a fact. Besides, the sparring itself was _fun_ and satisfied a need inside him he had almost forgotten.

He really wished he could just not feel this way. If he could make his crush go away, the whole thing would be easy.

Stupid desires. Stupid instincts. Stupid sexuality.

Gohan lay down in the grass with his hands behind his head, and brooded.

  
  


****

On the lookout, the two Namekians stood at the edge of the platform side by side in identical stances with their heads turned down and their arms crossed in front of their chests. Piccolo thought that they might have seemed like father and son to an onlooker.

So Vegeta had reached level three. That was interesting. Even Dende had been surprised by it, though, so Vegeta must have hidden all of his previous attempts at the transformation indoors in the gravity room.

And Gohan was, once again, pining for the prince. For all his determination to end their sexual affair, he was clearly struggling with it. Piccolo thoroughly disliked watching Gohan like this. He didn’t think he had ever seen his young friend in conflict with himself.

Next to him, Dende sighed. “This is not going the way I thought,” he said with an unusual impatience that even carried a hint of petulance.

Piccolo turned to him. “You still believe that they should have continued having sexual encounters?”

Dende nodded. “I talked to him the other day,” he said with a frown. “But I don’t think I convinced him of anything.”

Piccolo nodded slowly. “You’re sure about this path?” He knew, or he’d _thought_ he knew, that Gohan was happy with his family the way it was. Losing it would make him unhappy. An affair with Vegeta would risk him losing his family. That was not something he should encourage unless it was necessary. He had to be certain about the right path before he acted accordingly.

Dende sighed again. “I am sure that this is the way things are meant to happen. Whether it is a good or a bad way, I don’t know. I can’t see where it will lead.”

Piccolo’s lips pressed together tightly. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  
  


*****

  
  


By the time Piccolo took off from the platform Gohan had already left for home. Piccolo changed course and sped up. He had to intercept Gohan before he reached his house or they wouldn't have enough privacy for this conversation. And if he waited for the next day, Gohan’s inexplicable longing for the prince would dim and he would be more difficult to convince.

On the other hand, waiting for another day would have meant more time to formulate a plan. Because Piccolo had no idea how to persuade his friend to have sex with Vegeta. What was he going to say? This was not his area of expertise at all.

Well, it might not be that difficult. Gohan _wanted_ to have sex with Vegeta, he might just need a bit of encouragement to act on this desire. Hopefully. Piccolo strongly hoped he wouldn't have to resort to talking to _Vegeta_ to make this affair happen.

He felt Gohan’s ki slow and stop where it was. He must have sensed his friend coming and was waiting for him. Sure enough, Piccolo soon found him alone in a meadow near a group of bewildered looking cows.

“Are you going to beleaguer me now every time I meet Vegeta?” Gohan called to him. He lacked his usual cheerfulness.

Piccolo frowned as he landed in the soft grass. “No.”

Gohan huffed. “Good. If you aren’t here to berate me, that’s good.”

“I didn’t berate you the last few times,” Piccolo pointed out. He had been supportive even before Dende’s pronouncement. He would have been supportive no matter what Gohan did. He was his friend, after all. “In fact, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

Gohan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned away.

This was not going the way Piccolo had hoped. “Wait,” he said quickly before Gohan could fly off.

Gohan rounded on him. “It’s none of your business,” he hissed. Piccolo hardly ever saw him angry, and never directed at _him_. It was jarring. He levelled his gaze on his friend hoping to exude calm and peace of mind, but he wasn’t sure it was working. “No,” he agreed, “maybe not. However, it is my business when my friend is in distress.”

A muscle in Gohan’s jaw twitched. He folded his arms and scowled. He almost looked like Vegeta now.

“I have been thinking,” Piccolo said, his gravelly voice as close to gentle as he could make it, “that it might not be a bad idea if you continued this affair.”

Gohan’s eyes widened. “What,” he said flatly.

“It was clearly good for you,” Piccolo began and Gohan interrupted him with a hysteric laugh: “ _Good for me?_ Do I look _happy_ to you right now?”

“No,” Piccolo conceded hesitantly. It was rare that a conversation slipped through his fingers like water, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Should he start shouting as well? But what would that accomplish? “But that is because you are trying to suppress your… desires, and...-”

“Oh, don’t pretend you understand anything about desires,” Gohan snapped. His eyes were now wide and his hair dishevelled. He looked far from the composed, cheerful friend Piccolo knew so well.

“I wouldn't pretend that,” Piccolo said, making another effort. “But I can see that you have them. It’s not good to deny yourself something you need.”

Gohan’s eyes narrowed. “Dende said something like that as well. I don’t _need_ to sleep with Vegeta, you know.”

“But you could,” Piccolo pointed out. “If you want to.”

“Why?” Gohan said sharply. “Why? Why would it be worth betraying my wife? It doesn’t even make me _happy_. Not when there’s lying and cheating involved.”

Piccolo hesitated. “Because… it feels good?” He had never felt less sure of anything since he had kidnapped his dead rival’s four-year-old to possibly train him for the possible arrival of possible enemies.

Gohan snorted. “Okay. I’m leaving. Thanks for your advice.”

He flew off, and just this once he used all his considerable strength to reach a speed Piccolo had no hope of matching. He clearly didn’t want to be followed.

Piccolo sighed heavily, folded his legs underneath him and closed his eyes. He had to meditate on this.

  
  


****

  
  


Half an hour later, he was still hovering in the same spot. The herd of cows had slowly amalgamated around him but he paid them no mind.

He should have known Gohan required better arguments. He was after all a scientist who worked with hypotheses and evidence and control groups, he was not going to be won over by _feelings_ alone. Piccolo had always appreciated that about him – and now he had tried to do it anyway.

The only thing that would convince Gohan was a plausible reason. And he had none.

Well, other than the truth.

Could he tell Gohan that Dende had had a premonition about him and Vegeta? Probably not. It was something that Gohan would believe, certainly. But he felt that such things were for the guardian alone to disclose. He would keep Dende’s trust.

 _Trust_.

He hesitated. Was that the key?

Well, either way, he would have to wait until the next time he spoke to Gohan. And after their argument that might still be several days. Gohan was clearly angry with him and would not want to talk to him any time soon. So Piccolo would have enough time to ...-

“Piccolo?” Gohan’s voice was calling him in his mind.

He exhaled. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… said that. It’s so rare that you’re trying to influence my life...-” he trailed off and then chuckled. “Actually, I think this might be the first time since you abandoned me in the middle of a desert.”

Piccolo huffed. “Possibly.” It was pleasant to hear that Gohan’s anger had dissipated.

“I just don’t get it,” Gohan said quietly. “Why do you care what I’m… what I want from Vegeta? Why are you trying to get me to do that?”

Piccolo was silent. He still could not answer that question with honesty.

“So then I thought,” Gohan continued, “that there must be a reason. Something I don’t see.”

Piccolo almost smiled. He should have had more faith in Gohan’s intelligence. “There is,” he confirmed. Surely he could say that much.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“No.” He hesitated and then added: “You may just have to trust me on this.”

Gohan was silent for a moment. Then he said: “I guess I’ll think about it.”

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

_featuring: Nightmares and a family dinner, but no answer to the question which of them is worse._

  
  


It was one of those days.

Vegeta woke up with Frieza’s cruel laugh still ringing in his ears. The icejin had just finished skinning Bulma’s naked upper body with his fingernails while she screamed and screamed and Vegeta stood by unable to move. The folds of her skin were carefully slung over Frieza’s tail to dry like laundry. Her raw red flesh gleamed with blood. Ginyu applauded politely in the background.

So, the usual scene.

His body was covered in sweat when he woke, but he was shivering violently and was on his feet in a fighting stance before he was fully awake.

Every dark corner of the room held an invisible Frieza.

He produced a large ki ball in one of his hands, the other still outstretched ready to blast at any threat, and illuminated the small room. It was empty.

His shoulders relaxing minutely, he turned slowly on the spot to peer into every corner. He did not keep his back turned to any direction for longer than a second. When he was sure the room was clear, he stretched out his senses over the planet.

Trunks and Bra in the same building. Piccolo in the desert. Gohan and Pan far away in their home, and Goten not far from them in his mother's house. The handful of stronger than average humans clustered on those islands in the ocean.

That was it. No threats.

He scanned the building for Bulma’s ki. She was asleep in her bedroom.

A small clattering noise from the neighboring building made him jump out of his skin and the ki ball in his hand seared the wall before he managed to extinguish it. He cast his ki sense in the direction the noise had come from. The only awake creature there was a cat. It had probably thrown some object to the ground.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. The sweat on his skin was cooling, which did nothing to ease his shivering.

He padded to the bathroom and took a hot shower.

The heat reminded him of pain, so he turned it to cold. Then the cold reminded him of Frieza’s skin and he turned it to lukewarm.

The images from the dream crept up every time he closed his eyes and he tried his best to not even blink. He hadn’t had a skinning dream in a while, though what with rotating through all of Frieza’s favorite torturing styles each month it made sense for it to have come back around.

If he wasn’t getting tortured himself in these dreams, it was usually Bulma, Bra or Trunks, very rarely even one of Bulma’s parents or Pan. Kakarott. Radditz. Every one of them had been got to by Frieza at some point in his nightmares.

He toweled himself off and winced at the feeling of something scraping over his skin, even if it was just a soft cloth. He pulled on his gi and took off through the window. He needed to get open space and fresh air.

He could tell that this was going to be a long day. Usually, his nightmares faded with the dawn. Usually, it took only minutes for the slight disorientation to fade and for him to remember where he was – in his _bones_ , not only in his mind. Usually, he was fine if he spent some time alone on his favorite cliff, breathing in fresh air and surveying his surroundings.

And then there were _those_ days.

Those days where the ghost in the back of his mind simply wouldn’t _leave_ and instead left him queasy and jumpy the whole day. There was nothing to do about it but to avoid people and work himself to the brink of exhaustion.

Consequently, he shut himself up in the gravity room as soon as he returned to the building, before anyone else in the house was even up for breakfast. And he resolutely stayed there as long as he could.

But it was Thursday, and once the afternoon came around he left the relatively safe confines of the gravity room with its sturdy electronic lock and went streaking through the sky again towards the sparring grounds.

He killed two birds that surprised him in the air, and narrowly avoided shooting a ki blast at an airplane thundering along far above him.

He knew he shouldn't be outside on days like this. He could easily have skipped their loose arrangement this week if he had wanted to.

But he remembered what sparring with Kakarott had done for him when he was feeling like this. What had helped him was not the tentative support Kakarott had tried to offer him, nor even only the opportunity to punch and smash things and vent his frustration in bloodlust. Though that had admittedly been a large part of it. However, _pathetically_ , it had also been the simple presence of a strong warrior he trusted. It had made him feel less as though all burdens rested on his shoulders alone.

If Gohan could give him even a fraction of that feeling, it would give the boy another use beside the obvious one. Well, and the other obvious one. But Gohan had given up that use of his own volition. It was a pity, really – sex would have gone a long way towards calming his nerves as well. But it couldn’t be helped.

He was the first at their sparring ground, which was good because it meant he could keep his back to a large rock and look out carefully for Gohan’s arrival. The last thing he needed was someone sneaking up on him from behind. Especially someone he would _mind_ accidentally killing.

Soon enough, Gohan’s ki approached from somewhere to his right. He expected the boy to tap down cheerfully on the ground and engage in his usual bout of mind numbing small talk – really, who cared how “his week had been”? His weeks were always the same after all. This time, though, the slow easing into the company of another person would be welcome.

So he was _very_ unpleasantly surprised when Gohan fired a ki blast from above his head before he had even landed.

Vegeta was not sure how it happened, but by the time his conscious thought was back he had flown up, smashed his enemy down towards the ground and followed him to rip his body out of the soil and fling it into the rock he had been using for protection, where he proceeded to pummel his stomach. The panicked fear in his heart knew only the urgent need to hurt the other man before he could get hurt himself. His blood was roaring in his ears.

He snarled when Gohan managed to snap out of his shock and fling him off.

For some unfathomable reason, his enemy didn’t use the opening but simply stood there wide-eyed. Vegeta launched himself at him but Gohan evaded him and moved half a mile into another direction. Vegeta started yet another attack, but Gohan pulled the same maneuvere again.

After a minute of this game, Vegeta’s heart rate and thinking were closer to normal. His mind felt less like it was actively on fire.

What had he been thinking? This was Gohan, _Kakarott’s_ son, the epitome of innocence. He was a harmless sparring partner. He wouldn't hurt Vegeta. And even if he tried, Vegeta was stronger.

This sort of snap was exactly why he shouldn't be outside on a day like this. At least not with an unprepared partner.

He finally stopped and stood there, chest heaving, and tried to school his expression from something that was probably manic into cool indifference. He didn’t quite manage.

Gohan held up his hands as though trying to calm a wild animal, and slowly walked over to him until he was just a few meters away. Vegeta appreciated the fact that he wasn’t coming closer than that.

„Hey,” Gohan said carefully. “Are you okay?”

Vegeta grunted.

„You seem a bit...“ he seemed to hesitate. _Twitchy_ , the Bulma in Vegeta‘s mind supplied helpfully.

He had the sudden absurd urge to wrap his arms tightly around Gohan. As if that would help. Punching things helped. He knew that. That was why he was here, after all.

„We don‘t have to do anything today,“ Gohan went on to his disappointment, „we could just talk or...-“

„Fight,“ Vegeta said in a raspy voice. It was the first time he had spoken all day. „I want to fight.“

 _I need to rip something to shreds and feel their hot blood on my hands_.

“Okay,” Gohan said slowly. “Okay. Do you, uh, mind if I ascend too?”

Too? Oh. Vegeta hadn’t even noticed his own transformation.

It was probably better if the kid ascended. That way Vegeta could not hurt him as much. But he knew that what Gohan was really asking was whether Vegeta could handle a more formidable opponent right now. Someone who presented an actual threat.

His hackles rose. _Of course_ he could handle that. He wasn’t some mindless animal. He’d lost control for a brief moment, so what? Gohan had surprised him. It could have happened to anyone. How dare Gohan judge him by that brief weakness?

“Do whatever you want,” he growled. “Let’s just get to it.” He was itching for it.

  
  


****

  
  


Gohan did ascend, which was probably for the best.

Throughout their spar, he left Vegeta in control. Grudgingly, the prince had to appreciate how Gohan refrained from doing anything really unexpected. Instead, he just seemed to be keeping an eye on Vegeta's movements and reacting to them in a way that challenged Vegeta physically but not mentally. It was… very helpful, actually.

After an hour of this, he felt almost normal.

The exertion was very welcome and filled his muscles with the warm glow of physical strain rather than the icey tension of fear. His breathing was in line with the workout. He began to trust his senses more. Gohan was where his ki sense told him he was, he didn’t have to look around to check with his eyes and ears as well. Though honestly, he liked to. Gohan was always a pleasure to watch. Almost as much as his father had been.

It had been the right thing to do to come here. Vegeta could not remember anything easing him out of his twitchy state this thoroughly and this gently. It was as if someone had wrapped his wounds in gauze. The underlying feeling of _wrongness_ simply… dimmed.

He had to admit that even sparring with Kakarott, while generally much more interesting, did not hold up to sparring with Gohan in this particular regard. The boy was almost _disgustingly_ considerate. He seemed to be making a conscious effort not to be behind Vegeta, for example. That sort of thing would never even have occurred to Kakarott.

It appeared he had found a new cure for his weak mind.

The only thing missing to make this session completely satisfying, he thought, was an orgasm. Now that he had settled mentally into the sparring session he could feel its familiar effects on his libido. It was a twitchiness of a different kind. Gohan looked very appealing with his bulging muscles, his intelligent, focused eyes and his skin covered in fresh sweat. Vegeta wasn’t sure what he longed to touch more – his own cock or Gohan’s skin. He was eager to get his hands on both.

He contemplated his options.

Gohan had made it clear that he wasn’t going to initiate sex again. But Vegeta could be very persuasive if he wanted to be. Should he try and seduce him just this one more time? The circumstances were special after all. He knew he would feel even better once he had a warm mouth on his cock. That kind of release would really, truly relax him. And he had nowhere else to get it at the moment. It wasn’t like he could go out to a human bar in his current state.

Of course, if he really wanted to Vegeta could easily overpower Gohan and just _take_ him. Gohan might not even protest too much if his eagerness the last times was any indication.

But that would be rape. Vegeta hadn’t raped anyone since… how long had it been? Well, definitely since before he’d come to Earth.

It was out of the question. Or a very, very last resort? No. Raping Gohan would ensure he would never come back to spar with him again, just when Vegeta was really starting to appreciate it. Not an option. He would have to go the other way. If he could manipulate Gohan into _wanting_ it badly enough – well, then it wouldn't be _his_ responsibility if the man chose to cheat on his wife again, would it?

He began by powering up further ever so slightly. Saiyans were attracted to strength more than anything, and Vegeta definitely had _a lot_ to offer in that regard. He made sure to use moves that _looked_ impressive – something he mostly didn’t bother with, preferring efficiency over flashiness unless he wanted to show off or intimidate. He bulged his mucles more than strictly necessary.

Adding all this to the raw excitement of a spar, he was certain Gohan would feel the effects soon.

Sure enough, Gohan’s body odor slowly took on a stronger tinge of arousal. It was by now a familiar scent that often permeated the air when they sparred. Vegeta wasn’t sure how well Gohan could smell. He knew that his own children lacked a sense of smell quite as acute as his own, so Gohan would probably be the same. He hoped so. He didn’t like the idea of his own arousal being obvious to his sparring partner.

But Gohan’s was growing now, becoming clearer by the minute.

Vegeta twisted Gohan’s arm behind his back, Gohan moaned and oh, that was _not_ a moan of pain. He smirked to himself.

At the next opportunity he got, he pinned Gohan against another one of the large rocks that speckled the desert and took advantage of their closeness by leaning in and boldly licking a stripe of sweat up Gohan’s neck. He could practically _feel_ the other’s knees go weak.

He had to resist the urge to press one of his legs between Gohan’s. He didn’t want to be the one to ask for it. The plan would only work if Gohan did.

But Gohan didn’t.

Vegeta punched, powered up, threw his best smirk around – nothing. It was immensely frustrating. Fifteen more minutes passed. Gohan was clearly hot and bothered enough, his erection visible sometimes even with his loose clothing, but he didn’t give in. Vegeta would have admired his strength of will if it hadn’t been so annoying.

They were nearing the end of their sparring session by now. Soon, Gohan would tap out with a self-deprecating smile saying that he’d had enough for a week and “see you next Thursday”. Vegeta refused to let that happen. The need to get into Gohan’s pants had now completely replaced the need to tear apart an enemy, and with almost the same intensity. His cock strained against the protective cup of his armor.

Fuck it.

He was going to get off with or without help. Right now. It wasn’t about sex, it was basically about therapy.

At the next opening he got, he pushed Gohan to the ground hard. By now, the boy was exhausted enough that he lay there motionless on his back for a moment, panting for breath. Vegeta tapped down to the ground next to him. “Stay down,” he said before Gohan could make an effort to get up. “I want to enjoy the view.”

His sparring partner was covered in sweat. He was bleeding from several cuts, the blood slowly seeping through his torn clothes to drip onto the ground below. The right side of his face was one large bruise – big enough that it might be two bruises next to each other. He was clearly struggling for even the smallest movements. However, at least one part of him was still ready for attention if the tenting of his gi pants was anything to go by.

Gorgeous. This really was a view to enjoy.

Vegeta let his eyes rove along the body he was towering over. Gohan was watching him attentively as if curious what he would do next.

Well, that was easy to answer. Vegeta gave his cock a much-needed squeeze through his armor, then reached inside to remove the cup.

Gohan still did not say a word, but at these actions he let out a clear moan.

Vegeta smirked. He had known this would get to the kid. Slowly, he began to fist himself. Gohan, his breath still quick, propped himself up on his elbows as though for a better look. The tent in his pants was growing.

They stared at each other like this, Vegeta and his audience of one. It was exhilerating how hungrily Gohan was watching him pleasure himself, licking his lips and occasionally releasing soft moans or gasps of desire. It made it very difficult for the prince to keep his rhythm slow and controlled.

He nodded his head towards Gohan’s crotch. “Join me,” he said.

As if he had just waited for permission, Gohan immediately reached for his cock. His gi was so loose that he could pull it out without having to open any flaps. He was massively hard and clearly in dire need of attention. Vegeta could empathize.

Once again, Gohan was very vocal about his pleasure. The sounds he was making were practically pornographic, except that they were clearly natural and there was nothing showy about them. Gohan simply couldn't help himself.

Together with the visual of Gohan’s strong hand flying up and down over his cock, the effect was intense. Vegeta could no longer quite control his own vocal chords as he moved his hand faster and faster. Gohan matched his rhythm, and then his fingers flared blue. Little sparks of ki danced over his skin. Vegeta remembered keenly what that had felt like on _his_ cock, the fizzing, the tickling – and that was it, he was coming without meaning to, gasping for air like a drowning man.

Once he managed to open his eyes again, he saw that Gohan had thankfully joined him in dropping over the edge. Relieved that the boy had been distracted when Vegeta had put on that show of losing control, he sat down heavily on the ground to take the pressure off his decidedly weakened knees. He was still out of breath.

Gohan had flopped back down onto his back. His chest was heaving and his eyes were closed, but a blissful smile graced his mouth. Vegeta caught himself thinking that it was a very attractive smile. He allowed himself a few seconds of indulgence before he looked away. It wouldn't do for Gohan to catch him staring like an infatuated little boy.

“You have an impressive amount of ki control,” Vegeta couldn't help remarking.

Gohan cracked an eye open and grinned at him looking very much unlike his father. “I could teach you.”

“Or you could just do it for me,” Vegeta pointed out.

Gohan’s grin dimmed. He looked away. It was a full ten seconds before he murmured: “Maybe,” and heaved his body up with a grunt of pain. Vegeta watched him slowly hover over to the little pouch of senzu. A moment later, he straightened his body looking perfectly normal, stretching and cracking his joints.

Vegeta felt a stab of annoyance that they wouldn't meet again for a week. This session had been so satisfying in every way. What if he had a bad day again? If it happened on any day that was not Thursday, he couldn't exactly go begging Gohan for a spar or a fuck.

Gohan wandered back over to him. He offered Vegeta the pouch of senzu. The prince declined with an arrogant huff. Strangely, this seemed to bring Gohan’s smile back. “Yeah, obviously not,” he said cheerfully, pocketing the pouch.

He paused before flying off. “Would you like… I mean… can I… hug you?” His voice got smaller and smaller throughout the sentence.

For a split second, Vegeta remembered that he had had this same urge earlier. But that had been before the spar when he had still felt… off. There was certainly no need for it now. And in any case, Vegeta didn’t hug. He barely hugged his own children.

“No,” he said. If Gohan wanted physical affection, he could get it from his wife. Vegeta just liked the sex.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t get that again, adultery or not. He could be very persuasive after all.

  
  


*****

Every few weeks, Chichi invited her two sons over for dinner.

In practice, of course, this meant that she invited _Gohan_ over for dinner. Goten still lived with her after all and benefited from her cooking all the time. Since Gohan and his wife and daughter lived close by and visited frequently, the invitation was more of a formality in any case.

Gohan usually enjoyed these evenings. Even if neither his brother nor his mother were all that easy to get along with, well, family wasn’t supposed to be easy. That was normal. They were still family. It was often a welcome change from the routine of having dinner with his wife and daughter – who used these evenings to spend some quality time together without him.

This time, of course, he was a bit distracted by the ball of lead he seemed to be carrying around in his stomach wherever he went now.

Try as he might to convince himself that what he had done the previous day did not count as cheating, it had still left his insides churning. He had not touched Vegeta, his physical excitement had been understandable, Vegeta had seemed to need it to help against his obvious psychological agitation – he had been through all of the arguments. It didn’t help. He’d had sex with Vegeta once again. Whether or not they had actually touched was mere semantics.

Why hadn’t he been able to just keep it in his pants, for Kami’s sake?

He’d really have to strengthen his resolve if he were to stand any chance against his stupid, stupid desires. But would it be enough?

He also couldn't help replaying Piccolo's words to him in his mind. For some unfathomable reason, Piccolo thought Gohan should keep sleeping with Vegeta. He had asked for his trust in the matter.

But while Gohan usually did trust Piccolo blindly and unconditionally, it just seemed like a cheap excuse in this case. _I cheated on my wife because my asexual friend told me it wouldn't be such a big deal_. The thought was ridiculous.

And yet undeniably tempting.

His mind jumping this way and that, he frequently zoned out of the conversation as he methodically ate himself through various dishes of his mother's delicious cooking, sometimes saying “Hmmm” or “Right” without paying too much attention.

He was pulled out of his thoughts, slowly and reluctantly like a spoon out of a pot of honey, when Goten began talking excitedly about the upcoming release of a new video game console. He was going to get it on the day of release, was going to wait with a crowd for the shops to open, and first he was going to get that game about the fish, and then...-

“And how are you going to pay for that thing?” Gohan asked neutrally.

Goten waved him off with a chicken drumstick in his hand. “Trunks, probably. Or Mom. We’ll see.”

Gohan raised his eyebrows at their mother. She looked embarrassed. They had a variation of this very conversation in regular intervals. “Goten, honey,” she began carefully, but then she paused and looked pleadingly back at Gohan.

He sighed softly. “The money that Videl and I provide to you both is so you’ll have food on your table and a hovercraft and so on. It’s so you get by. You know that. It’s not exactly meant for… expensive toys.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and it was only after a five minute lecture on why video games weren’t _toys_ that Gohan could get another word in. He had to persist, though. It was another chance for him to exert some positive influence on Goten’s life which sometimes seemed to be moving into a… _difficult_ direction. If it was moving at all.

While they generally had a good relationship, Gohan had long since lost the ability to convince his little brother of anything he didn’t want to be doing. Their mother was the only one he listened to these days. Apart from Trunks, and well, Trunks was the main problem in this regard.

So the only chance Gohan had was to prod his mother to prod Goten, and sometimes this worked.

“All I’m saying,” Gohan said patiently when Goten had to pause for air and chicken, “is that it wouldn't hurt for you to try and find a job. I’m sure there’s something you are good at.”

“’M good at figh’ing,” Goten told him through a mouthful, and then swallowed to grin at him. “Remember when Trunks and I beat your ass?”

Vividly, unfortunately. It was difficult not to blush at this reminder, although he doubted that the boys could still beat him now. He had made great progress in the last weeks, and the sparring with Vegeta had gotten him used to fighting again. But that was not the point at the moment.

“Sure. But there must be something besides fighting,” he said calmly.

Goten threw him a cocky smirk. “There is,” he said. “But I can’t say _that_ in front of our mother.”

“Goten!” Chichi looked scandalized and amused at the same time.

Gohan clenched his teeth and tried to keep calm. “I’m just saying, if you spent a little less time girl hunting and a little more time job hunting, you’d be able to afford any console you wanted.”

Chichi touched his arm gently. “Gohan, please lighten up a bit. Our financial situation is perfectly stable.” _Thanks to us_ , Gohan thought privately. “Let him have his pleasures. Both the games and the… other pastimes. It’s normal for boys to chase girls before they settle down. It’s more unnatural if they don’t. If you know what I mean.”

Goten snickered.

Gohan shrugged, looking away. He concentrated on his food and didn’t reply though his stomach burned like hot lead. He’d heard it too many times. Besides, what could he possibly say? “I’m offended by this because I think I’m gay. What, my wife? Oh, that’s not serious. I’m actually seeing someone else on the side.”

Which he was. There were only so many one-time-exceptions you could make before you had a trend. And by now he had made four one-time-exceptions… if he was really, truly honest with himself, more exceptions were almost certainly on the horizon.

He was having an affair with Vegeta.

Shit.

He pulled himself back into the conversation at hand with an effort, but his mind kept reeling throughout dinner. He was having an affair. He was cheating on his wife. He was going to do it again. Long term. He tried to fit these sentences into the picture he had of himself. He was a cheat now.

It sounded wrong.

When he flew home, he hated himself.

But mostly because, if he was honest, it was a weight taken off his shoulders.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

_featuring: Smoking and other sins. The other sins are probably worse._

  
  


Now that Gohan had made up his mind, he couldn't help himself. He _burned_ for Vegeta, and yes, the guilt burned right alongside his desire but it was no longer strong enough to drown it out.

And Piccolo had said it was all right, hadn’t he? And even Dende had said… - and well, if he had the _guardian’s_ blessing… he was the highest authority on earth. Surely higher than Gohan’s own conscience.

It was all too easy to give in.

So he admitted defeat, and the next time he met Vegeta for their sparring session he made a move again. Once they were done with their exercise and were sitting on a rock passing a water bottle between them in a strange uneasy camaraderie, he gathered all his nerves and put his hand on Vegeta's thigh. It felt like petting a ferocious tiger who might rip off your hand at any second. The thrill was undeniable.

But all Vegeta did was raise an eyebrow at him with an amused sort of smirk.

Encouraged, Gohan slid his hand higher.

Half an hour later, he flew home with a happiness that was different from all the excitement he had felt so far. It was calmer, a ball of profound contentment that he carried around in his chest. It almost felt like relief.

  
  


****

  
  


The feeling did not diminish at all over the next weeks. The happiness he felt at his new closeness with Vegeta, if you could call it that, carried him on emotional highs for days on end.

He still had not told Videl that it was Vegeta he was meeting on Thursdays, and now he was glad that he hadn’t. Now that they had sex virtually every time they met, he felt that it was somehow safer this way. Gohan didn’t think his wife knew about his interest in men, even in theory, but he needed to eliminate all grounds for suspicion just in case. So as far as Videl was concerned, he was sparring with Piccolo once a week.

It would be easy to keep this illuson up. No problem. He washed thoroughly every time before returning home and chose every word carefully when his family asked about his sparring sessions. When he asked Piccolo whether he would confirm his story to Videl if she asked, the Namekian just nodded without looking at him. So he was all set in that regard.

If he was honest, he had not expected adultery to be this easy.

The worst part was the bitter taste in his mouth whenever he shared tender moments with his wife. Kissing her good-bye when he left for work in the morning, gently making love underneath the sheets, grinning at each other at some of Pan’s adorable antics – those moments now only reminded him that he was a terrible, terrible person.

He tried to mitigate them by being extra attentive to both his wife and daughter. For the first time in a long time, he bought Videl a gift outside of a birthday or anniversary occasion. She said she loved it and hugged him in gratitude. He wrapped his arms around her pretty, frail, soft human body that he had never really been attracted to and resolved never to sleep with Vegeta again. The resolution lasted until the following Thursday.

After that, he mainly just tried to put his affair out of his mind. This worked surprisingly well over time. He just had to get used to having two separate lives, one where he lived with his perfect wife and perfect daughter in a perfect house in the country, and one where the prince of his extinct alien race regularly fucked him hard enough to cause minor earthquakes in the vicinity.

It wasn’t all that difficult really. He had years and years of experience keeping his work life in human society and his Saiyan identity separate, after all. This was no different. Psychological compartmentalization.

However, there were times when he could not help himself and thoughts of Vegeta intruded on his mind at inopportune moments.

One evening he was emptying the dishwasher. Gohan was alone in the kitchen, Pan was already asleep and Videl was getting ready for bed upstairs. As he ran a towel gently over the plates, he reflected on the constant care he had to take not to break objects like these all around him. It had become even harder since his power level had increased again. Really, the only time he could truly be himself without controlling his every movement was sparring with Vegeta. _Vegeta…_

An amused huff pulled him out of his dreamy state. Videl was in the kitchen doorway, barefoot and in her nightshirt. Her arms were crossed and she regarded him with a grin. “I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said. “But you’ve been rubbing this plate for five minutes now, and if you give this much care to each of them I guess I should just go to bed alone. You can join me in an hour when you’re done.”

Gohan grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I was lost in thought, I guess.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” Walking over to take another kitchen towel out, she began to help drying the remaining dishes quickly and efficiently. “So what’s on your mind?”

He cast his thoughts around for a plausible topic, and settled on one that _had_ actually been on his mind for a while. “I’ve been thinking abot Goten lately.”

She looked surprised. “Goten? Why?”

He sighed. “The last time I was at Mom’s, we talked about money again.” He told her about the conversation he’d had with his mother and brother. “He just doesn’t seem to get what I mean,” he complained. “I know we have enough money to spare for them, you and I, but that’s not the point!”

“No,” Videl said quietly. “I know.”

“He’s old enough to be taking some responsibility for his life,” Gohan said.

“And integrate into human society,” Videl added.

“And integrate into human society,” Gohan repeated, “exactly.”

“Hmmm.” Videl was thoughtful as she put the last dishes away into the cupboards.

“I mean, I know we can’t withhold money from Mom and him,” Gohan said quietly, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. “Obviously. They need to eat. They’re my family, it goes without saying that I support them. I can’t let them end up on the street.”

“Or worse,” Videl said darkly.

Gohan frowned at her.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Has it never crossed your mind what someone with superpowers might do if he was angry, or desparate for money?”

 _Oh._ No, it actually hadn’t. “I don’t think he’d do anything… illegal,” Gohan said slowly. But he wasn’t as sure as he’d like to be.

Videl shrugged. “You’d know better than I would, I guess. But the point is, I agree, we can’t withhold money from them in the long run.”

Gohan nodded.

“We could, however, do it temporarily,” Videl added. “Make it conditional. You know. They’ll only get money _if._ If Goten makes an effort. Sends an application or goes to a job interview, for instance.”

“I’ve thought of that too,” Gohan admitted. “The thing is, it’s actually going to be hard for him to apply anywhere. He doesn’t have any formal education, not even basic schooling.”

“And unlike you, he’s not a self-taught genius,” Videl said with a smile and kissed him on the cheek. Gohan blushed a bit at the affectionate compliment. “I just don’t think it’s something we can reasonably ask of him if he has no real chance to succeed,” he said to cover the tender moment.

“Hmmm. Yeah.” Videl paused for a moment. “You know, I happen to have excellent connections to Satan Corp and its subsidiaries.”

“You don’t say,” Gohan said dryly, but he couldn't help grinning.

She punched him lightly on the arm. “What I mean is that I could set something up. There must be some position that he’ll be able to do with minimal knowledge as long as he has brains. I’ll ask around a bit. What do you say?”

“I say,” Gohan said seriously, “that only leaves the problem of where to find him brains.”

They broke out in helpless, slightly guilty snickering.

  
  


****

  
  


Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Are we even going to fight or do you come here exclusively to get fucked these days?”

Gohan looked at the ground sheepishly. Something told him that the honest answer was not what Vegeta wanted to hear. “Ummm...”

The prince huffed, apparently half-amused. “Tell you what,” he said. “If you manage to pin me to the ground, I'll make it worth your effort. All right?”

_Ohhh..._

Gohan's mouth turned up in an uncharacteristic smirk. “Deal.” With _that_ kind of motivation, he'd pin even Vegeta to the ground.

He was right.

It took him a while to find an opening. But half an hour into their sparring, he finally managed to catch Vegeta from behind by surprise, kicked his legs out from under him, and then followed up with a powerful hit from above that sent Vegeta crashing into the ground.

He followed him quickly and pinned his opponent down to effectively keep him from escaping. Triumphantly, he leaned down to claim Vegeta's lips as his prize. Before he got there, however, the prince had grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back up forcefully. “Ow!” Gohan exclaimed and his distraction allowed Vegeta to roll him over and reverse their position.

“You never let me kiss you,” Gohan grumbled as Vegeta worked on pinning both of his arms with a single hand of his own before trailing the other arm down Gohan's body.

“Actually, I was just about to,” Vegeta corrected him. With a smirk and one raised eyebrow (an expression that never failed to have an effect on the younger man), he took Gohan's cock out of his gi and lowered his mouth down over it.

After their sparring and the constant reminders of what inevitably followed it, the organ needed _very_ little encouragement. One lick of Vegeta's tongue and Gohan felt dizzy as a result of all the available blood in his body promptly rushing to the battle stations.

Oh _Kami_ , was he really going to…?

He was. Oh, how he was.

The prince gave him no time to adjust to the sudden onslaught of sensation. He set up a simple, unhurried rhythm that made Gohan surge further towards orgasm with every up or down.

But his real undoing, the single most amazing factor in this, was looking down and seeing _Vegeta_. His prince.

Doing _that._

Gohan stood no chance.

It took thirty seconds and he was utterly unable to even keep his head up off the ground.

“Ah,” Gohan panted. “VegetaI'mtoohotforthis, aaaah, I'm gonna...-”

And then that perfect mouth was gone and Gohan groaned with desperate disappointment. “No,” he moaned, trying to urge Vegeta back down with his legs, “no... please....”

“You will come when I let you,” Vegeta growled at him. “Not before.”

“But...-” Gohan immediately protested, his need pulsing through his body and urgently demanding release _now, right now_.

“That was not a suggestion,” Vegeta cut across him. “Don't forget who your prince is. We do this on my terms or you can suck yourself off.” He grinned. “I'd love to watch you try.”

Gohan groaned. “ _Fine_. Fine, okay, whatever you want, just... _please_...”

  
  


****

  
  


He awoke with a start when his face was suddenly doused in cold water. Gasping and snorting, he tried to get his bearings. Vegeta's ki was right next to him.

“Oh, are you up?” the prince's voice asked in mock surprise. “Good.”

Oh Kami, he had fallen asleep after his orgasm. Or blacked out? He didn't know which was worse. Wiping the drops of water off his face, he opened his eyes and sat up. It had to be an hour or two later. The sun was approaching the horizon.

“I'm out of here,” Vegeta said, minimizing the capsule fridge he had taken the water bottle from and stowing it, back in its capsule form, inside a cavity in his chest armor. “It's getting late.”

“Um, yeah,” Gohan said, still not fully present. “Right.” His mind turned back to the dizzying bliss that had apparently put him to sleep. One of the very few blowjobs he had received in his life, and definitely, absolutely, the best. If he had known it could be _that_ amazing, he would have tried persuading Videl to do that more often. Wow.

“Hey, Vegeta?” he said before the prince could fully take off. “Thank you.”  
Vegeta frowned, looking genuinely confused. “Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “See you next week.”

And he was gone.

Yawning and pulling listlessly at the grass around him, Gohan realized that Vegeta must have waited for him to wake up before going home. The thought of the prince watching over him as he slept made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

He let himself enjoy the feeling for a few more minutes, then mentally stomped on it. He had to get back to reality, and back to his wife. Allowing himself to pine for his illicit lover was out of the question.

The flight home might just give him enough time to wipe the dopey grin off his face.

  
  


****

  
  


“Hiding from your grandmother?” Vegeta quipped as he lowered himself on the dome-shaped roof of Capsule Corp next to his son.

“Planning my domination over the puny humans,” Trunks grinned at him. He tapped the cigarette in his hand against his knee. The ashes drifted away into the night sky.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Vegeta smirked. “I can help with that. I’m an expert.”

Trunks laughed. “You haven’t been very successful lately.” He held out the pack of smokes but Vegeta declined with a wave of his hand. He’d never understand how people could willingly poison the bodies they depended on.

Trunks shrugged and took another drag. “So where would you start?” he asked.

Vegeta raised his eyebrows. “With a domination of _Earth_?” Wasn’t the joke over yet?

“Yeah.”

Vegeta looked at his son for a moment. Then he said: “On Earth, the biggest problem is the highly fractured leadership. You’d have to destroy the two or three biggest cities in quick succession, preferably within one day. Leave them no time to regroup in between.”

For all of his training, he had never actually discussed military strategies with his children. But it might not be a bad idea. After all, no one was a good warrior without such knowledge. You never knew when you might need it.

“Isn’t it a good thing if your enemy is divided?” Trunks asked. To Vegeta's utter amazement, he seemed to be taking his words seriously for once.

“In a long war, yes,” he replied. “In a short campaign, it’s much easier if they are united under one leader. If you subjugate or eliminate that leader, they are all yours.”

“But Earth doesn’t have that.”

“No. On Earth, you’d need more bloodshed to get your point across. Kill their leaders quickly, or wreak a bit of havoc to show them their leaders are helpless. Trigger some natural desaster like a volcanic eruption or a tsunami. Then once you’ve got their attention, you can appear to them and politely ask them to surrender. They will.” Babidi had been successful enough with a similar strategy but he was not sure how well Trunks remembered this.

Trunks blinked at him, his cigarette almost forgotten. “Wow.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Of course this only works if there are no other strong warriors on the planet, which there are in this case. But I’m assuming this discussion is hypothetical and you are not actually planning on doing this.”

Trunks flashed him a grin, his cockiness reappearing. “Might be,” he said lightly. “I’m bored.”

Vegeta snorted. He refrained from commenting that his son just didn’t appreciate peace enough. “It seems you and Goten are keeping busy enough.”

Trunks grimaced. “Goten has a job interview tomorrow.”

“Oh,” said Vegeta, mildly interested to put it mildly.

“Yeah,” Trunks said, blowing smoke into the air. “He’s gonna fail it on purpose, though. He doesn’t really want the job. Might as well have some fun with those idiots and shock them in the interview.”

“Why is he going there if he doesn’t want the job?”

Trunks huffed. “His brother is pressuring him to do it.” He imitated a somber, self-important voice that was not like Gohan’s at all: “It’s about time you get a job, Goten, I can’t be the only working family member forever.” He laughed briefly. “Kami, Gohan is so lame.”

Vegeta bristled a bit. “Gohan was a warrior before you were even born,” he pointed out. He wasn’t sure why he was defending Gohan. Gods knew Trunks’ assessment of him was not entirely inaccurate. But somehow the fact that the judgement came from _Trunks_ rankled.

Trunks snorted. “Some warrior he is. You should have seen how we beat him, Dad. We _destroyed_ him.”

Vegeta privately doubted that this was still possible now. Gohan had made great improvements in a very short timeframe. He had just been rusty and his power level had been low, but he _was_ a great warrior if he wanted to be.

But it wasn’t worth arguing about. He shrugged. “I guess. I wasn’t there.”

“And anyway, that’s not the point,” Trunks said, flicking the stub of his cigarette down towards the ground. “The point is he shouldn't be controlling his brother's life. It’s none of his business what Goten’s doing. He’s such a bossy bitch.”

Vegeta frowned. “That seems a bit strong.” Gohan was never bossy to him. On the contrary, he submitted wonderfully to Vegeta being in charge. It was very pleasing.

“Why do you care?” Trunks asked, turning to him with a wary frown. “You barely _know_ Gohan.”

This confirmed Vegeta's suspicion that Trunks was not paying enough attention to the prominent ki signatures on Earth, or he’d have known that Vegeta was meeting Gohan on a weekly basis. Pathetic. The prince always kept track of where everyone was.

But in this case, his son’s negligence actually played into his hands as long as he wanted to keep their affair private.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t,” he said. Trunks was right. What did Vegeta care about arrangements between Gohan and Goten? They didn’t concern him at all. As long as Gohan provided him with satisfying sparring matches, sprinkled with a few orgasms, he could do to his brat of a brother whatever he liked.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

_featuring: honest answers to important questions_

  
  


“So, how's sparring with Vegeta?” Pan asked her dad, who promptly had a coughing fit.

“How do you know about that?” he rasped when he could get the air flowing again.

“I can sense you doing it,” Pan shrugged.

Her dad was gaping at her.

“What?” she said, confused. “Don't you? I can even smell him on you some days, you know.”

“Um, yeah,” Gohan said, looking embarrassed. “But... I didn't think everyone should know about it.”

Pan frowned. “Why not?” Then a thought hit her. “Wait... because of Mom?”

Gohan grimaced. “She doesn't like Vegeta. I thought it would be best if she didn't find out, you know?”

Pan laughed. “Don't worry, Dad! I can keep a secret! I won't tell her _you're_ training with Vegeta if you don't tell her _I'm_ training with Vegeta. I think I'd be in big trouble if she found out...” Suddenly worried, she added: “ _You_ don't mind, do you?”

Her father grinned and shook his head. “I thought you might be. Knowing him, he started training Bra as soon as she could walk. And he probably thinks I'm neglecting my duty as a father if I don't do the same with you.”

Pan giggled. “He actually _said_ that!”

“He said what?”

“He said... Last year, he said to me 'if you were my daughter, you'd have been training since the age of three and no excuses!'”

Gohan smiled. “No excuses,” he repeated. “That does sound like a very Vegeta thing to say.”

“Yeah,” Pan said, grimacing. “He says that a lot. That and 'spoiled little brat'.”

“You're not,” her dad said, looking at her firmly now. “Pan, just because we don't _beat you up_ all the time doesn't mean we're spoiling you. We just always thought that you... should have a more normal childhood than we had. Your mother and I, that is.”

“I'm not a normal child, Dad,” Pan said quietly.

She regretted it immediately, because her dad looked like she had hit him with a kamehameha-wave. “I mean,” she said quickly, “I just mean I _am_ part Saiyan and everything, and I really like training!”

“Do you wish we'd trained you more?” Gohan asked carefully.

She shrugged. “I don't know. I used to want that. I trained with Goten and Trunks sometimes, but they never took me seriously. Bra and I used to play sparring when we were little but we never got very far with it. She always got bored because she trained for real all the time with her dad, so... yeah...” she trailed off. Yes, she had often wanted to learn from her father the way Bra was learning from hers. But Gohan had never been interested and she'd given up asking when she was seven. And her mom was way too weak, of course.

“But now I can train with Vegeta,” she said quickly, “and he's a great teacher!”

“Is he?” Dad said, looking surprised.

“Yes!” Pan said excitedly. “He's taught me so many things already. And he says if my tail ever grows back, he'll teach me to transform into a giant ape!”

Gohan rolled his eyes. “Count on Vegeta to go drastic. _If_ your tail ever grows back, you're going to stay inside every time there is a full moon. I don't want you to go rampaging with Oorazu Vegeta, trampling whole villages. But I just hope we we'll never have to worry about that.”

Pan pouted. She would have _loved_ to have a tail. She'd never seen a saiyan tail for real, but Bulma had once shown her a picture of her grandfather as a child. He looked like a tiny, tailed version of Goten.

“Anyway, I'm glad Vegeta is teaching you things, Pan,” her dad said softly. “If you enjoy it, I definitely won't stop you.”

She smiled. “I bet he can't teach _you_ anything anymore.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Gohan said, smiling too. “I was eighteen when I last fought a real fight, and I haven't really trained since then. Until now. I was far from knowing everything there was to know.”  
Eighteen sounded very old to Pan. She knew that by the time she turned eighteen, she would be a _very_ accomplished fighter. That was eight years from now, she had _ages_.

  
  


*****

  
  


Vegeta looked down on their sparring grounds and his mouth quirked up in a smirk.

_Damn..._

The boy was waiting for him in the middle of the plain – _on his knees_.

He landed softly right in front of him. Gohan didn't look up but Vegeta could hear his breathing accelerate.

“Hello,” he said lightly. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Hello, my prince,” Gohan replied quietly. They were the best words Vegeta had heard in a week. Practice had only enhanced the boy's submissive conduct. He knew by now how to greet his prince in a _very_ satisfactory fashion.

Vegeta grasped Gohan's chin and tilted his head upwards. The younger man's eyes were gleaming with excitement.

“Tell me,” he said, “have you been jerking off about me this week?”

Gohan smiled, unabashed. “Excessively.”

Vegeta had to suppress a smug grin in return.

“What do you think of when you do?”

Gohan's eyes closed and his smile widened. “Your commanding voice,” he said. “the feeling of your hands on me, knowing you could break my bones any minute if you wanted to. Your burning eyes. What you sound like when you come. Your fingers pulling my hair as I'm sucking your cock...” he trailed off, licking his lips.

Vegeta smirked, looking down. “You're hard already? That was easy.”

“I've been... waiting,” Gohan said vaguely.

“Don't be embarrassed,” Vegeta said with a grin. “The feeling is mutual.”

Gohan's eyebrows rose abruptly. “It is?”

Vegeta frowned in annoyance. The boy was breaking character in their little scene. If he wasn't careful, he'd ruin the mood completely. “Sure,” he said with a hint of impatience.

“It's just,” Gohan began to explain, looking a bit sheepish. “It always feels like I'm begging you, hoping you are gracious enough to...” he trailed off.

“Fuck you?”

“...yes.”

Vegeta was fighting a grin at that prudery. “Lucky for you, I _am_ gracious today.”

Gohan didn't look as happy about that as he should. Vegeta rolled his eyes. “ _What?_ Out with it, we don't have all day.”

The younger man seemed to hesitate. “I don't want you to be gracious,” he finally said in a small voice. “I want you to want this too.” He looked as though he was expecting a slap in the face for this answer.

_Oh boy, insecurities._

Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do want this, obviously.”

Gohan looked at him warily. “Really?”

“Sure,” Vegeta shrugged. There was no harm in admitting this. A sex drive wasn't exactly a weakness. “There's a certain... rush to being with someone strong. Not having to hold back.”

It was more than that, of course. He was beginning to enjoy the company of, well, another Saiyan. But he wasn't sure the other would consider this a compliment. A pity, since it was the highest honor Vegeta had to bestow on anyone. Even if it was just in his thoughts.

“I know what you mean,” Gohan said, smiling. “Touching someone without having to fear that you'll break them.”

Vegeta flashed a smirk at him. “You think I can't break you?”

Gohan's smile morphed into a lusty grin in return. “Do you think you can?”

It was a relief to be back to banter. This was much easier to deal with. “Oh, I _know_ I can,” he retorted darkly.

“Good,” Gohan said in a voice that was practically dripping with desire. “Try.”

  
  


****

  
  


Turning away abruptly from the edge of the platform, Piccolo walked back towards the palace with his arms crossed and a deep frown. He would give them a bit of privacy. He didn’t exactly enjoy watching sexual performances in any case.

Besides, he had had an idea.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated deeply and cast his senses out, far out beyond the edge of the world, crossing into another dimension, searching for a familiar presence…

“Kami,” Kai’s voice was in his head. “Or Piccolo, I guess I should say. What a pleasant surprise. It’s usually your successor that I talk to, these days.”

“He is tending to his gardens,” Piccolo said. “I shall pass on your greetings.”

“I’m glad he’s fine. What can I do for you?”

“Master Kai,“ Piccolo began. There was no denying that Gohan and Vegeta occupied his mind strongly these days. Dende‘s vague _feeling_ had not yet been confirmed – or denied. Possibly the higher authority could shed some light on it. „Master Kai, Dende has had a premonition about certain events on Earth.“

„Oh?“ Kai sounded interested.

„Goku‘s older son has recently begun a,“ he grimaced, „secret sexual affair with the Saiyan prince Vegeta. Dende thinks that this affair will be… relevant. I was wondering if you could confirm this.“

„Let‘s see.“

There was a silence of almost three full minutes while Kai presumably stretched out his antennae. Piccolo did not mind silence. Nor did he mind waiting patiently.

„Ah,“ Kai said softly. „Yes. That... Yes.“ Piccolo was not good at evaluating emotions but he thought his voice sounded troubled.

„So it is true?“ He asked.

Kai sighed deeply. „This is the trigger for larger developments that will culminate in the saving of Earth.“

„Good,“ Piccolo said.

„However,“ Kai continued heavily. „Before it comes to that, they will cause much suffering.“

„For Gohan?“ Dread sank into Piccolo's stomach.

„For many people.“

„Does that mean we should not have started it?“ Piccolo asked.

„ _You?_ “ Kai asked with a hint of amusement. „Are you involved in this affair?“

Piccolo was not in the mood to humor that ridiculous question. „Can we reverse it?“

Kai sighed, serious again. „It is too late to reverse. We must all live with the future the way it unfurls.“

Piccolo had hoped to be reassured by a conversation with Master Kai but this ominous statement didn’t leave much room for joy, all eventual Earth-saving aside.

What had they done?

  
  


  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a bonus chapter outside my regular updating schedule! Because the last one was so short and because 'tis the season for giving :D

_featuring: Something like a moral dilemma, something like romance, and a picnic. I’m sure about the picnic._

  
  


“What do you mean, _give him a passing grade_?” Gohan asked slightly bewildered. “But he’s failed.”

“That depends entirely on your interpretation of his paper, Dr. Son,” the provost reminded him.

“Uh, yes,” Gohan said. “And I interpret a badly designed experiment yielding inconsistent data _which is then misinterpreted_ as a fail. How would _you_ interpret that?”

The provost looked slightly uncomfortable for a second, but seemed to pull himself back together. “It is of course clear that it is not an outstanding work from an academic point of view.”

Gohan gaped at him. That was a deplorable understatement.

“However, it is currently the only class he is failing. All other professors have agreed to give him low passing grades instead. It is now only yours that keeps him from graduating this year. That’s why I’ve asked you here to discuss our options.”

“Now, wait a moment,” Gohan protested. “It’s not _me_ that keeps him from graduating, it’s the fact that he’s managed to learn nothing in the five years that he’s been at this university. Which results in not having earned a degree.”

“Look,” the provost said, leaning forward. “His father has recently donated a large sum to our rebuilding of Dorm Five. It would… send a bad signal if we now send his son home without a diploma, don’t you see?”

“Oh,” Gohan said. Well yes, now he _saw_.

“Since it is such a small margin, you know, only one class it depends on, I have been asked to see whether something can still be done about it.”

“You just said the other professors have agreed,” Gohan reminded him trying to keep his voice from sharpening, “so it wasn’t only my class at first, was it?”

“Well, now it is,” the provost said with a wry smile.

“But, Sir,” Gohan said almost desperately, “surely you agree that maintaining academic integrity is vital.”

“Of course academic integrity is vital for the reputation of our institution,” the provost nodded.

 _Obviously the reputation is all you care about_ , Gohan thought bitterly. _I bet we could cheat and lie all we like as long as it doesn’t affect student recruitment numbers._

“However, sometimes our long-term reputation has to be weighed against short-term economic survival. I’m sure you understand that we are, first of all, a business venture.”

Gohan’s jaw clenched. He took deep breaths – transforming into a Super Saiyan right now would not do him much good. “Yes, Sir,” he said.

“Give it some thought,” the provost said, turning away to pick up a stack of papers in a clear gesture of dismissal, “I’m sure there is some leeway to be found if you look for it.”

Gohan marched back to his office fuming. That stupid management board, caring more about income than academic standards!

A while ago, something like this would have upset him (and rightfully so, he thought) but it wouldn't have made him this furious. He was on an emotional roller coaster these days, and the smallest things tipped him into anger or sadness.

He closed the door firmly behind him and leaned against it with his eyes closed. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

He had no choice in the matter. Not really.

Sure, he could protest a bit more. He could go to the Dean. He could file a complaint with the Academic Integrity Board or even the Quality Management department. But for one thing, causing a stir over this kind of thing wouldn't lead anywhere in the end. There was too much collective leverage against him. That dumb rich kid would get a passing grade in the end one way or another, and with any one of these ways Gohan would risk his own standing with his superiors.

And for another thing, he could not afford to draw too much attention to himself. He had his secret projects to consider. If it came to light that he regularly used his lab equipment and occasionally even diverged small amounts of grant money for _additional_ research of a more private nature, he would definitely lose his job.

He also had a slightly uneasy feeling in his gut that he might not be the right person to be making a stand for integrity at the moment. Cheating on his wife and all.

So he’d have to bite the bullet and give the abysmal research paper another very generous look, squeezing every little positive point out of it that he could find and hope it added up to a passing grade. He’d get to it right after lunch.

Having made up his mind, he made ready to leave his office again – and then discovered that the uncomfortable conversation with the provost had made him miss his standing appointment with George, Annette and Simon.

Great.

First his academic integrity was undermined, and then he couldn't even vent about it to his friends. The day had started with a call from Goten telling him almost gleefully that he had flunked the job interview they had arranged for him, and it certainly hadn’t gotten better since.

It was a good thing that it was Thursday and that Gohan had something to look forward to.

  
  


****

  
  


He had to make a quick stop-over at home to change clothes before taking off to meet Vegeta. He was already running late because one of his biology colleagues had accosted him on the way out to discuss how a mistake in the scheduling had led to an overlap in lab usage for Gohan and one of the PhD students, which _urgently_ had to be solved. Gohan had drawn the short end of the stick, which would postpone one of his experiments by a whole two weeks, and he was now not only in a foul mood but also in a hurry.

He entered their house by their bedroom window, something he was usually too polite to do, pulled off his suit and tie and hastily threw on his gi. He ran a hand through his hair in front of the closet mirror and quickly checked whether he had something stuck in his teeth before moving back to the window to make his exit.

Then Videl came into the bedroom.

“Hi,” Gohan said with an apologetic smile, one hand on the windowframe, “I’m sorry I didn’t say hello, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Videl said, smiling at him. “Just to let you know before you leave, I’ve had a call from SFM, you know, the Satan Fan Magazine. They want a home story.”

Gohan grimaced at her. “Do we _have to?_ ” He hated home stories about his family. With Videl being Hercules Satan’s only child, a bit of a celebrity status was unavoidable. Generally, Videl and Gohan both disliked it and preferred to stay out of the worst of the limelight – one of the reasons they had moved out into the country. But sometimes, publicity was needed to boost the Satan Foundation Videl worked for.

“Uh, Dad kind of...” Videl grimaced back, “uh, yeah. Let’s just say we should.”

...And sometimes, Hercules put his foot into something and it had to be covered up by something positive. Like his daughter and her model family.

“Great,” Gohan said with a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Guess we’ll do it then. When are they coming?” On the rare occasion that camera teams came over, they had to hide incriminating objects in the basement in time, such as the inexplicable amount of food they consumed as a three-person family. And a certain glowing family heirloom with four stars in it.

„They said next Wednesday or Thursday,“ Videl said.

„I can‘t do Thursday,“ Gohan replied promptly. „Tell them Wednesday.“

Videl frowned. „Can‘t you raincheck Piccolo just one time? You see him often enough.“

The mild irritation that had pulsated in Gohan for hours flared into anger again. Take away one of his appointments with Vegeta? Not if he could help it. “No,” he said flatly. “And it’s not one time, it’s two. Week after next is Mom’s birthday. I’m not standing him up twice in a row.”

Videl tsked. “Seriously? You know what, I think you’ve been seeing him more these past two months than in the two years before that. What’s up with that?”

“I’m training,” Gohan said shortly. “You know that. And I really don’t have time to get into it right now.”

Videl’s eyebrows rose. “Fine. Go then. But if you keep doing this, then maybe don’t wonder why I think that you see him too much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gohan had now turned his back on the window to face Videl angrily.

“That’s supposed to mean that your family should be more important to you than a weekly hobby,” Videl said coldly.

“It’s not a _hobby_ ,” Gohan protested, stung. “It’s important for me to be at my best. I have to be capable of defending you and Pan and… all of Earth if we’re attacked, and...-”

Videl snorted. “Do you hear yourself? You sound like Pan when she’s spent too much time with Bra. I guess she gets that from Vegeta.” Gohan’s ears went warm at the name. “Listen,” Videl continued almost gently, “I know you’ve had a tough childhood, okay? But we are _not_ under attack. You don’t have to be ready to blow up an enemy at any second. There are none left. You guys always seem to believe everyone has it out for you. That’s being a bit full of yourself if you ask...-”

Gohan snarled at her. It took himself by surprise and he hastily took a step back from where he had advanced on Videl. The flicker of fear across her face was alarming. He took a deep breath to calm himself for what felt like the tenth time today. “You don’t get it,” he said shortly.

She looked at him. “No. No, I don’t.” They stared at each other for another ten seconds, then Videl said: “Have a nice time with Piccolo.” She slammed the door on her way out, leaving Gohan alone in the bedroom feeling both angry and embarrassed.

  
  


****

  
  


Ten minutes later, Gohan landed out of breath at their usual sparring ground.

“Sorry,” he said right away, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re late,” Vegeta informed him irritably.

“I know,” Gohan said. “That’s what I’m sorry for.”

Vegeta regarded him with a thoughtful frown. Gohan kept still, feeling very much on the spot like he did every time Vegeta looked at him with those beady eyes.

After a moment, Vegeta’s lips twitched. “I guess I have to punish you for keeping me waiting then,” he said.

Gohan’s stomach swooped. To his surprise, it wasn’t the kind of swoop he would have expected at this statement, but rather an uncomfortable one. Somehow the idea of pain at Vegeta's hands wasn’t all that pleasant at the moment. Which was stupid because seeing Vegeta was supposed to be the highlight of this day. Admittedly a low bar today, but still. He’d been looking forward to this since before lunch.

What he really wanted, though, was just to _be here_ with Vegeta. He hadn’t thought much further than that. If he was honest with himself, he had mainly wanted to just _see_ the prince. In his fantasy, Vegeta would wrap him in his strong arms and tell him everything would be all right. And then maybe they’d make out for a long time and have perfectly normal sex. It was ridiculous even thinking about it. Not only would Vegeta never do any of these things, but also if Gohan wanted them he could have them from his wife anytime. There was no need for an affair if being hugged and cuddled was all he wanted.

No. He was here precisely because Vegeta could give him something different. He shouldn't forget that.

He shook his head lightly to clear it. “Yes, my prince,” he said.

“I’m glad you agree,” Vegeta said pleasantly, “even if you never had a say in this in the first place.”

Gohan swallowed, a slight dread settling on him. He pushed it down. “Right,” he said, “bring it on.”

  
  


****

  
  


Vegeta was pleased to see that Gohan went down to his knees without another word being needed.

“Not so fast,” he said, just for the fun of it. “Strip first.”

Gohan hovered upwards obediently, pulled the top part of his gi up over his head and tossed it aside before taking off his pants and underwear. He hovered back down naked and resumed his kneeling position. Strangely, his cock was still soft. Granted, they hadn’t done anything yet, but usually Gohan needed very little stimulation in this respect and was often rearing to go just from kneeling and listening to Vegeta's commands.

“Good,” Vegeta said, trying for a silky voice. He could see Gohan’s shoulders rise with a deep breath at his praise, a good sign that the boy was relaxing. 

He walked over and around him, coming to stand behind his back. He ran a hand down Gohan’s spine and watched his muscles tense in anticipation. Lighting his fingertip with ki, he made two symmetric incisions next to Gohan’s shoulder blades. Lovely drops of thick dark blood oozed out of them. Gohan exhaled slowly.

No moans. No pleas. Huh.

Vegeta frowned, but he was nothing if not determined. He took both of Gohan’s hands in his and twisted them upwards, higher, higher, almost to the point of dislocating his shoulder… The boy made no sound. No sound of pain, but not even a sound of pleasure. Vegeta wondered if he should dislocate both of Gohan’s shoulders to get a reaction out of him. Not that he’d mind. But it would make Gohan less flexible and, well, Vegeta  _was_ planning on getting some sexual release out of this as well. 

He dropped Gohan’s arms.

Walking around to his front, he took Gohan’s chin roughly in his hand and forced it upwards to look into his face. It was passive but there was no hint of the dreamy state Gohan so often fell into when they did this. He looked more… empty.

Well, Vegeta would have to work harder then. He grasped Gohan’s hair in his right fist and pulled on it sharply.  _This_ finally got a reaction as Gohan gasped and hissed with the pain of it. Good. Now they were getting somewhere. Gohan loved having his hair pulled. 

“Ah, good,” Vegeta said mockingly, “you _are_ in there, after all.”

“Yes, my prince,” Gohan gasped obediently. His eyes were beginning to water from the tug on his hair.

“Then let’s see what we can do with you,” Vegeta smirked, and set his other hand around Gohan’s exposed throat. The boy’s eyes widened slightly. Well, in a minute they’d be bulging. And that would be the point where Vegeta would ram his cock down Gohan’s throat. Vegeta grinned in anticipation and began slowly squeezing...

“Stop,” Gohan mumbled.

Vegeta stilled immediately and frowned at him, annoyed but mainly confused. _This_ was too much? _How?_ Gohan usually took all kinds of pain with obedience and even enthusiasm. He had broken at least three of his bones the last time! He let go of Gohan’s throat.

“Stop… what?” he asked, just to be sure. “Just this or all of it?”

Gohan blew out a breath looking embarrassed. “Um. All of it? For today?”

Vegeta glared at him.

“I'm sorry,” said the kid dejectedly. “It's just... I had a bit of a bad day, and then I had a fight with Videl before I came here and... I'm just not in the mood to be abused right now.”

Vegeta grunted. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't going to force the boy, but it still was a disappointment. He'd come to look forward to this weekly release of tension, and having to wait another week for it was unfortunate.

“All right then,” he said with a sigh, turning around to walk away and get into a fighting stance – he wouldn't be cheated out of both sex _and_ sparring. That was _not_ happening.

“Wait!” Gohan's voice said, and a moment later, a hand was on his shoulder.

Vegeta growled menacingly and turned his face to bare his fangs. He _hated_ being touched without warning, especially from behind his back. Even if there hadn't been any one to actually threaten him in a very long time, old habits died hard.

“What?” He snarled after Gohan had hastily removed his hand.

“Would,” Gohan licked his lips, “would you _have to_ abuse me?”

Vegeta turned around now. He regarded the younger Saiyan for a long moment.

Finally, he said: “No, I guess not.”

There were a few moments of silence, followed by a strange tingling sensation when Gohan began gently running his hands up Vegeta's arms, unfamiliar but not at all unpleasant. A small smile played on the boy’s face as he did this.

They had never done this, not like this, all _soft_. But Vegeta was no stranger to ordinary, painfree sex in general. With Bulma for example, it had been all they were able to do – he would never have risked accidentally killing or maiming her just for a sexual game. It was just strange to be doing this with _Gohan_. That was not what they did.

Or apparently, it was.

He lifted his arms obediently when Gohan gave the top part of his uniform an upward tug. It came off easily. He had not worn gloves to this kind of sparring session for weeks since they were too impractical for sex. Ha, the sacrifices he made for this...

He watched Gohan’s face as he took in Vegeta's upper body with his intelligent eyes. _Small,_ his mind said. _Tiny. What kind of prince are you, runt that you are?_ Gohan seemed to have no such thoughts. In fact, the interest that had been lacking so far was now very apparent. Gohan’s cheeks flushed slowly and his lips parted as he ran his hands all over Vegeta's chest, shoulders and stomach. Vegeta let him. It all felt a little surreal, but not in a bad way.

Gohan’s hand found the roughened tissue of his tail scar down on his lower back. Vegeta could not help the slight exhale that escaped him when Gohan pressed down on this sensitive part, and he had to close his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again, Gohan was looking at his mouth. His eyes flicked up for a second as if checking for something, then he leaned in close to Vegeta's face… - Vegeta turned his head away. That line was _not_ going to be crossed today.

Or ever. Actually. _Ever_. Not just today. What the hell was he thinking? Gohan’s hands were distracting him, that was all.

“No,” he said for good measure. He had to make this clear.

Gohan sighed very slightly. “Okay,” he said then and resumed running his hands all over his chest and back. “This is nice too. You’re, uh,” he swallowed. “You’re so _gorgeous_ , Vegeta. You have no idea how good this feels.”

“I have some idea,” Vegeta smirked and used his right hand to give Gohan’s erection a brief squeeze.

Gohan gasped and then groaned when Vegeta took his hand away. Vegeta grinned. Even if he wasn’t permitted to hurt his favorite toy today, there was no reason he couldn’t tease him a bit. Right?

Deciding to take a more active part in the proceedings, he sneaked his hands around and squeezed the two globes of Gohan’s most attractive feature. Gohan groaned and swayed forward so heavily that his face came to rest on Vegeta's shoulder where he breathed wetly into Vegeta’s skin for a moment. Vegeta smiled. It was good to know that he could drive this man crazy even without pain. He was so easy. Vegeta was curious to see where this would go.

But first, he really needed to get his hardened cock out of the protective cup that once again felt like a steeltrap. It was killing him.

As if he’d read his mind, Gohan’s fingers trailed along the edge of the bottom part of his uniform. He looked up and bit his lip, looking almost shy.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. Was he waiting for permission, seriously? Hadn’t Vegeta made his consent clear yet? Gohan couldn't still be _scared_ of him, could he? Vegeta wasn’t sure if the possibility pleased him, amused him, or disappointed him.

He stepped back, took off his boots and made quick work of the rest of his uniform breathing a sigh of relief when his cock finally sprang free of its confines. Gohan was back on him almost immediately, running his hands over all the newly exposed parts of him that he could reach. His thighs, his ass, his lower belly… it seemed Gohan wanted to make sure to leave no part of him untouched.

Except his cock, apparently. Hooray.

Vegeta didn’t want to show his frustration quite yet. Gohan would get there, he was sure. The last months had made it clear that the boy had a pronounced interest in his cock after all.

Sure enough, after another few minutes of teasing touches everywhere, when Vegeta was quite sure that there was now no square centimeter of him that hadn’t been caressed twice over _except for those few crucial square centimeters godsdamnit_ , Gohan sank to his knees and took him in his mouth.

Vegeta drew a shaky breath and held on to Gohan’s head under the pretense of guiding him. Not that Gohan needed guidance. He’d been a quick study in this particular art and was nowhere near as bad at it as he’d been those first times. Give him a few more months and he’d be able to give head for a living.

Sadly, Gohan only sucked him for a few minutes before releasing his cock with a wet sound. Vegeta struggled for composure. “What?” he managed.

“I like doing this,” Gohan said quietly. “And if you want I’ll keep doing this until, uh, the end. But, uh...”

“But you want something else,” Vegeta finished the thought for him.

Gohan nodded.

“Out with it,” Vegeta said impatiently. He didn’t care much in what way he was going to get relief but he preferred to get it soon.

Gohan’s ears turned pink. “Would it be okay – I mean, would you mind if… if I was the one in control this time?”

Vegeta glared at him. The nerve! “Absolutely not,” he said in the most icy tone he could muster while his body rather felt like it was on fire. How dare Gohan think he could fuck him? He was nowhere _near_ Vegeta's power level! That impertinent little...

“I don’t mean,” Gohan said hastily, “uh, I didn’t… I just meant… with you on your back, for example.” He gestured and turned an even brighter shade of red. “You know. Me doing the work.”

Oh. Vegeta relaxed immediately. Well, that was different. He considered it for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Why not?” It might be good to change things up.

He only hesitated for a short moment before lying down supine on the ground. It was an exercise in trust but he passed it. Or rather, Gohan passed it.

Gohan joined him on the ground enthusiastically after a quick stoop to pick up the lubratication from Vegeta's discarded uniform. He had taken to bringing some just in case even if it wasn’t always needed.

Gohan straddled him and prepared himself quickly with the sticky lube. He seemed to be remarkably experienced at lubing up his own ass. Finding the right angle to slide down on Vegeta's cock proved to be more difficult for him. “Here,” Vegeta said, taking his own member in hand and guiding Gohan steadily downwards. “Now sit. Slowly.”

Gohan sank down inch by inch, impaling himself and engulfing Vegeta in the most pleasant way. “Oh,” he gasped, “oh, this is good. So good. So deep.”

“Yeah,” Vegeta could only agree. He didn’t think more words were needed anyway.

Thankfully Gohan didn’t keep him waiting for long and began riding him in a sharp, eager rhythm that had Vegeta struggling to hang on. Apparently he was done with the slow shit, and that was _just fine_ with Vegeta.

It should have been a disagreeable position, leaving him with no control, leaving him with no way to _hide_. But he found he didn’t mind too much anymore. He was familiar with Gohan by now. Almost like a friend. Besides, Gohan seemed too busy with his own pleasure to pay much attention to Vegeta's. He was moaning and groaning like a whore, which Vegeta welcomed because it drowned out his own uncontrollable sounds.

The position also provided him with a nice view. Gohan was undeniably attractive, there was no shame in admitting it. His broad shoulders, wider than Vegeta's, his muscled thighs, his soft hair. A handsome, powerful Saiyan warrior at his peak.

Vegeta’s hands seemed to be outside his command now. First they had been on Gohan’s lower back just holding him in place. But then they had somehow come to gently stroke his thighs instead. He kept them there, gripping more tightly for leverage as he began thrusting upwards.

Gohan’s rhythm faltered immediately, though whether he was overwhelmed by the additional sensation or simply had no idea how to do this Vegeta wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter much. Vegeta kept his thrusts up and waited for Gohan to join him again.

Once he did, it was clearly the beginning of the end. Gohan seemed on the brink of hyperventilation with every breath a moan, and even Vegeta groaned out one or two “Oh Gods” when he couldn't help it. It was just too good.

He felt a massive orgasm approaching and didn’t think he could hold it off much longer. With a slight desperation, he grabbed Gohan’s bouncing cock in his hand and began jerking him quickly. Gohan moaned impossibly louder than before.

“Come on,” Vegeta chanted under his breath, his short, gasping, desperate breath, “ _come on!_ ” He was about to come, he could tell, he couldn't fight it anymore, couldn’t stop it… - Gohan came just in time, his come splattering over Vegeta's chest five seconds before Vegeta’s own release overpowered him. For a few moments, there was nothing but the blissful high of pleasure.

The boy seemed to have only enough strength to disengage his own body from Vegeta's before he collapsed face-down on top of him with a breathless laugh.

For minutes, they simply lay there. Vegeta closed his eyes, breathed and enjoyed not thinking.

  
  


****

  
  


Vegeta came to with strong arms around his torso and a warm body pressed against his. He was purring softly.

He must have fallen asleep. How embarrassing.

He stirred, ready to snap at Gohan if he made a comment about it.

Gohan‘s arms tightened around him minutely. „Stay a minute,“ Gohan mumbled. „It‘s nice.“

It was.

Vegeta wasn’t sure what to do and felt too sluggish to do anything in the first place. He knew that once the high wore off he would feel utterly humiliated by this, but at the moment he couldn't even worry about that. He just lay still and breathed.

“It’s good with you, you know,” Gohan half whispered. “Easier. Don’t have to be careful all the time. I can barely _move_ with Videl.”

Vegeta grunted drowsily. He knew what that was like. “Can’t break me,” he replied with a heavy tongue.

And he couldn't break Gohan either. Not accidentally, anyway. That was good. That was much better than with a human.

“I like your heartbeat,” Gohan mumbled into his chest.

It was a very stupid thing to say, but Vegeta couldn't find it in himself to sneer. He settled for a chuckle. “Yours should have calmed down by now,” he said. “If this is your resting heart rate, you should really work on your cardio.”

Gohan raised his head. “You can hear my heartbeat?”

Now he did roll his eyes. “Your heart is all of _two feet_ from my ears. Of course I can hear it. I could hear it if it was twenty feet away.”

He smirked at the look of amazement on the kid's face. He looked young when he wore awed expressions like this, but it was nice to be admired for a change. Trunks hadn't looked at him like that since he'd turned seven.

Vegeta ran his hand up and down the younger man's spine. It felt nice. He couldn't lie to himself, he was beginning to like this connection they were establishing. Gohan wasn't as chatty as his father, more serious even though he radiated the same positive, soothing aura of everything-is-going-to-be-okay. Gohan made him think of Radditz for some reason.

Or maybe it had just been too long since Vegeta had had a real partner.

Vegeta frowned at his own thoughts.

Even _if_ that was so, even _if_ he might consider another partnership, this one was not a viable candidate. He was too young, too foolish, too.... human. But more importantly, the boy already _had_ a partner.

“Right, time to leave,” he said, simply standing up and toppling Gohan over in the process.

“Okay,” Gohan said slowly. “Bye.” He looked hurt.

Not for the first time, Vegeta wondered what exactly it was the boy wanted from him.

  
  


****

  
  


“This is nice,” Bulma said, leaning back on her arms and turning her face into the sun with her eyes closed. “I really don’t get out into nature enough.”

“Then we should do this more often,” Videl said, unloading several picnic baskets onto the vast blanket they had spread out. “The kids need fresh air, you know.”

“Oh, Bra gets fresh air,” Bulma said. “She’s out often enough with Pan or Vegeta or Trunks. I’m the only one in the family stuck in a lab all day.” _Trying to maintain that living standard for the others_ , she added mentally.

“I’m sure you could get out more if you wanted to,” Videl said reasonably. “You _like_ being stuck in a lab, admit it.”

Bulma grinned. “Yeah, okay. You’ve got me.”

“Are you working on anything interesting?”

Bulma knew Videl was just asking out of politeness, but she appreciated the question all the same. The few minutes before the girls came back would probably be their only chance at an adult-only conversation. “I’m working on a time machine, actually,” she said. “The thing is, there is one problem I just can’t wrap my head around…. And without it, it won’t work. I’ll spare you the technical details, though.”

Videl nodded. “A time machine. Wow.” She looked impressed. “Well, whatever is going wrong with it, I guess I won’t be able to help you.”

“Probably not,” Bulma agreed. “Unless you know of a way to factor the Milky Way’s rotation curve into a spatial stabilizer.”

“Uh, no,” Videl said with a grin while she was spreading more and more food out on the blankets. “No clue what any of that means. But if you need a viable PR strategy for it later, I’ll be right there by your side.”

Bulma laughed. “Thanks, Videl. I’ll keep it in mind.” She sighed. “Just wish I could solve it already. It’s about time...” she trailed off. No. This was not the time to vent her frustration, or to show that it was slowly approaching the verge of desperation. Videl wouldn't really care. She gave another resigned sigh.

Videl’s hand appeared on her forearm. “Hey, you’re a genius, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You’re the smartest person I know other than Gohan.”

“Thanks,” Bulma said again, this time more warmly. “I’ll do my best. So how’s Gohan?” She actually didn’t know Gohan too well. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, but he had always maintained a sort of polite distance to her and her family. It was Videl she was mostly friends with.

Videl shrugged. “He’s fine. It’s… well, it’s been a bit difficult between us lately. He seems to be more… on edge. Started working out again a few months ago. I’m not sure if that’s doing him good or not.”

“Hmm,” Bulma said, looking over to where Pan and Bra were engaged in an enthusiastic game of airborne catch above a nearby hill. “I don’t know Gohan that well, but I know that if you kept Vegeta or one of my kids from working out they would go insane within a week. And Goku was the same. So based on that, I’d say let him have his bit of fun.”

Videl sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She frowned at the loaf of bread she was slicing. Now that Bulma looked at her more closely, there was a tightness about her face that suggested she wasn’t saying everything she was thinking out loud. Maybe there was more going on? Did Videl disapprove of Gohan training?

The thought of hearing about Videl’s and Gohan’s marital status made Bulma feel decidedly uneasy. That was not what she had signed up for when going on a girls’ day picnic with their daughters. She was no good at giving emotional advice. And romantic relationships especially were really not part of her expertise. So she did the next best thing and brutally changed the subject again.

“So, Trunks said you two blackmailed Goten into going to a job interview?” She said with a lighthearted grin as she began to peel an enormous fruit the size of her head.

Videl rolled her eyes. “Unsuccessfully.” Hey, she was smiling again, that was good. Bulma congratulated herself. She listened to Videl’s account of the failed job interview and the bad impression Goten had made, and how Videl had had to smoothe it over afterwards, and how Goten would not get near Satan Corp or any subsidiary any time soon – which was probably exactly what Goten had planned on happening, Bulma thought.

By the time the girls arrived, sweaty and hungry, Bulma felt she had talked more about interpersonal relationships in those fifteen minutes than she had in the past two months. It was a bit exhilerating, though exhausting. Strangely intriguing topics. Maybe she needed more female friends to gossip with.

Or maybe she needed more friends, period.

Bra plopped down heavily on the blanket next to her, reaching for a bun and munching away. Bulma ruffled her hair affectionately. “Did you have fun?” Bra nodded, already eyeing the bucket of fruit as well.

“Thank you for preparing this, Mom,” Pan said politely before sitting down cross-legged.

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Videl said. “Well then, help yourselves.”

Pan happily reached for some food, apparently having waited for this permission. Bulma refrained from rolling her eyes while she helped herself to fruit and pastry.

It was a very nice picnic. Videl had once again outdone herself with food, and its abundance left even two hungry growing Saiyans with nothing to complain. The sun didn’t fail them all afternoon, and after they had eaten Bra persuaded all of them to join in a game of hide and seek. Bulma couldn't remember playing hide and seek since primary school, and after her initial reluctance she threw herself enthusiastically into the silly game. Once she spent a full five minutes searching for Bra, with Videl and Pan who had already been found standing by with an uncontrollable giggle, until she finally realized that Bra had been hovering right above her head the whole time.

It had been a long time since she’d had this much fun.

“Let’s do this again some time,” Videl said smiling as they packed away the remnants of their food and blankets and stowed them in the hovercraft.

“Sure,” Bulma agreed easily. It really had been nice. “Maybe next time we can get the girls’ fathers to come along too. Keep the girls busy while we chat, you know.”

Videl seemed to hesitate. Bulma bit her lip – were things that bad between Videl and her husband? Surely not. “Or not,” she said awkwardly. “If… uh… things are strained between you right now, then...-”

“What?” Videl blinked at her. “Oh, oh no, not _Gohan_! No, Gohan and I are fine. No problem. No, I was just thinking… um. Do you think it’s a good idea to leave the girls alone with… you know...” she trailed off hesitantly.

“Vegeta?” Bulma laughed. “He’s a puppy, Videl. Okay, no,” she corrected herself. Her ex _was_ the most dangerous person on the planet. Strictly speaking. “He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he’s good with the kids all the same. They adore him.”

Videl stared at him. “ _They_? Pan barely knows him, right? I mean, they don’t exactly spend time together, I hope?”

Bulma opened her mouth to say that, of course, Pan joined in Bra’s and Vegeta’s sparring sessions on average twice a week – but in a split second she realized that if Videl didn’t already know that, then Pan had not told her, and if Pan had not told her, she’d had a good reason, and Bulma changed track and said: “I meant Bra and Trunks.”

“Oh,” Videl looked relieved. “Right.”

Now that the initial bewilderment had lifted, Bulma began to feel something else. Indignation. So Videl thought Vegeta was too dangerous to be around the girls, did she? Videl hardly _knew_ Vegeta. If she had, if she’d ever made an effort to get to know him, she would have known that it wasn’t a problem. That _he_ wasn’t a problem.

“But even if Pan spent time with Vegeta,” Bulma said, trying to keep her tone light, “there’d be nothing wrong with that.”

Videl looked at her for a moment, her cheeks turning a bit pink as if she’d been caught at something she shouldn’t be doing. “Right,” she said slowly. “Right, yeah, of course.” She seemed to pull herself together and gave a slightly false little laugh. “Silly of me to worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Bulma said with a smile she hoped looked more real than it felt. “Silly.”

  
  


  
  



	14. Chapter 14

_featuring: George’s Stubble_ _™_

  
  


“So, how are you and your handsome stubble doing in the dating scene?” Simon asked George over lunch.

George grimaced. “None of the women I’ve dated so far have come anywhere close to my... stubble. Handsome though it is,” he added with a grin.

Annette groaned and grumbled something like “Men...” into her salad.

“Because they didn’t want to or because you didn’t want them to?” Simon asked curiously, his chin propped up on two fists. Gohan privately thought this question was a bit too intimate, but well, Simon liked to get involved in their private lives. Especially love lives. And as long as George didn’t mind, Gohan wouldn't stop him.

George seemed unperturbed. “Both, I guess. Just hasn’t... fit yet, you know. _I mean_ ,” he added sharply as Simon’s grin widened to completely new proportions, “it has not yet fit _on an emotional basis_. Before there are any questions about me physically fitting anywhere.” Simon looked disappointed.

“I’m gonna look for new friends, starting tomorrow,” Annette muttered, making Gohan snort.

“So you’re dating the wrong women,” Simon concluded.

George shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve been meeting younger ones. You know.” He counted their benefits on his fingers: “No kids yet. Still hot. Bit of a thing for older men.”

“I’d seriously appreciate a conversation about paperclips right about now,” Annette mumbled.

“But it gets frustrating if they think the music you’re listening to is classic rock. I mean, _classic_? Ten years old is not _classic_ ,” George said in frustration. “And they don’t even remember historic events like Satan’s defeat of Cell.” He sighed. “I know it shouldn't matter, but it feels like not having anything in common.”

Annette patted his hand sympathetically. “You might try dating women your own age, then.”

George snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Annette scowled and withdrew her hand, muttering something that even Gohan’s enhanced hearing preferred not to catch.

“Maybe you should try out a new hobby instead,” Simon said to George. “Or wellness or meditation or something. You know, like Gohan.” He pointed both of his forefingers at Gohan with a flourish.

“Like me… what?” Gohan said cautiously.

“Like,” Simon waved his hands vaguely. “Whatever you’re currently doing that’s got you so happy.”

Gohan blushed. What had gotten him so happy was that his extramarital affair was going well and _the last time Vegeta had actually cuddled him, sweet Kami,_ and he was still ready to squeal like a little girl every time he thought about it. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said nonchalantly and ladled some more dip on his plate while his ears were burning.

“Come to think of it,” Annette said, “you have been very cheerful lately.”

“Exactly,” Simon gestured dramatically.

Gohan hid his face behind his food.

“Hmmm.” George grinned widely. “I look like that when I’ve been getting laid a lot.”

“Urgh, gross,” Annette wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t need to know that, George. Now it’s all I’ll think about the next time I see you cheerful.”

George sighed. “Unfortunately, it seems you won’t see me that kind of cheerful for a while. Not the way things are going for me right now.”

“Awww, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Simon patted George's head like a child’s. “There’ll be other times. Maybe the right lady for you is right around the corner.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she is,” Annette reassured him. “And it seems like Gohan has already got his. I’m glad things are going so well for you and Videl,” she said earnestly.

All Gohan could do was nod and pretend to smile, because no words would fit around the sudden lump in his throat.

  
  


****

  
  


Bra dropped the last dinosaur bone she had taken “for the road”, as she had said. It sailed slowly through the air to finally reach the ground far behind them. “I liked this one,” she commented. “We should hunt that kind more often, dad.”

“Sure,” he said. He personally preferred the more tender taste of the bigger ones but when he went hunting with his daughter, he’d do whatever she wanted. If he wanted to eat a big one, he could always just go and kill a big one himself.

He suppressed a yawn. Gods, but he was exhausted. He’d had two bad nights in a row now and the sleep deficit was catching up on him. He hoped he could get at least a few hours in that night, but he doubted that that would happen. But at least he’d probably sleep better the next night, since that was Thursday.

“I wish Pan could’ve come along, though,” Bra said. “Slashing that vicious thing’s throat would have been exactly her thing.”

“Next time,” Vegeta said.

“Yeah. They have reporters coming over to their house today, so her parents made her be there. Help clean and stuff. And talk to the reporters.” She rolled her eyes. “As if her parents can’t do that on their own. They never let her have any fun. I’m glad _you’re_ my dad and I don’t have to deal with _Gohan_ all the time.”

Vegeta frowned. Once again, just like when he’d talked to Trunks, he felt the strange urge to defend Gohan’s honor as if he was his family. “I know you don't like Gohan, but...-”

“That's not true!” Bra interrupted him a little too hurriedly to be utterly convincing. “He's nice.” She seemed to hesitate. “He’s a bit… boring sometimes, isn’t he? And he makes Pan do all sorts of things. Homework and chores and all that.”

Vegeta grunted roughly. He had never given too much thought to that, mainly because he regarded human schooling as a waste of time for a Saiyan warrior and because Capsule Corp was tended by so much (predominantly robot) staff that hardly anyone in the family did any chores around the house, except for Bulma sometimes because she claimed it helped her think.

But the way Bra said it, it didn’t sound that bad.

Funny how he had always thought Gohan was too soft on his kid, and _his own daughter_ thought the opposite. He had to suppress another yawn.

“But _you_ like him, right?” Bra said.

Vegeta almost dropped out of the sky, all tiredness forgotten. “What in the _hells_ makes you say that?”

“Pan says you spar with him a lot lately.”

Gohan had told _his daughter?_ Didn’t he know how chatty the girls were? If one of them knew, the news was bound to spread rapidly among all the warriors on the planet, Saiyan, Namekian and human. And whatever that shapeshifting pig was.

“She can sense it,” Bra added when Vegeta didn’t say anything.

He turned to her and blinked. “Pan can sense me sparring with Gohan?”

“Yup,” Bra said happily. “She’s really good at the ki sensing thing, you know.”

“I’ll say,” Vegeta said, impressed against his will. Their regular sparring ground was remote enough that he’d been sure the girls at least would not be able to sense anything from that far off. He glanced at Bra out of the corner of his eye. “Can _you_ sense that?”

Bra made a “pfft” sound. “No. You’re probably too far away when you do it.”

Vegeta relaxed. They were probably safe from most prying eyes then. And Gohan had _not_ been stupid enough to blab to his kid after all. That was good. That actually made much more sense.

Out loud, he said: “So Pan is better than you, huh?”

Bra scowled. “Only at _that_. And…” she frowned, “maybe at school and stuff. But not _at everything!”_

Vegeta smirked inwardly. Bra was so easy to motivate if you caught her by the pride. “Right,” he said lightly.

“And I’ll learn how to be better at ki sensing too, you’ll see! You just wait!”

“Right,” he repeated, and then he reached out through the air and squeezed her shoulder briefly. “You’ll be the best, I know.”

“Yeah,” she said vehemently. “Yeah, I will. And so will you,” she claimed, pointing a finger at him as she turned on her side in the air. “Keep sparring with Gohan, okay, Dad? I think it’s good. Sparring with us has gotta be boring for you. You won’t make any progress. Gohan is better.”

Vegeta grinned. “I agree.”

“So you like him?”

Vegeta blinked. That wasn’t the point. The point was exactly what Bra had said – Gohan was the only really viable sparring partner left. He was a good choice if Vegeta wanted to get ahead.

But sure, if he thought about it he liked Gohan well enough. Much more than he had expected, actually. If he was honest, it wasn’t just the sparring that he looked forward to anymore. Or the sex. Or even the sleep, though right now it was the sleep. Gods, he needed it. Another day like this, and even Bra would probably be able to knock him flat.

Not that Bra needed to know any of that. So instead, he said: “He’s okay. In the absence of Kakarott, I’ll take what I can get.”

Though admittedly, what he _had_ gotten was better than he could have hoped for.

  
  


****

Gohan was streaking through the air excitedly, eager to get to their sparring ground.

He felt that the last week especially had, well, _shifted_ something.

Being beaten to a pulp by Vegeta had always been Gohan's most shameful desire, barely acknowledged as a fantasy in his darkest moments when he lost control over his thoughts while pleasuring himself. Experiencing that for real was the greatest thrill he had ever known and had lost little of its excitement in the past two months.

But to Gohan at least, there should be something more to sex than just... sex. For the first time, their intercourse the week before had caused a new kind of intimacy, a new kind of trust between them.

Though he was probably imagining this. Vegeta would doubtless laugh at him if he uttered words like “intimacy” out loud.

When Gohan reached the sparring site, the prince was already waiting for him, leaning with his back against a large rock and watching Gohan’s approach. “Hi,” Gohan said brightly. Vegeta grunted in response. Well, that was almost friendly by his standard.

Gohan began a few katas and stretches in preparation while Vegeta just watched. “Right then,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Vegeta replied. “Didn’t get any sparring done the last time, we need to make up for it.”

“I wasn’t exactly disappointed last time,” Gohan said with a grin as he slid into a fighting stance.

Vegeta mimicked him, but his foot caught on a pebble and he had to adjust his stance two or three times until he seemed finally satisfied. Weird. For the prince who usually moved with the efficiency and grace of a predatory animal, this was almost clumsy. But Gohan obviously knew better than to make a comment.

However, when they began to spar in earnest, it became clear quickly that Vegeta was not at his best that day. He seemed tired. Gohan refrained from offering him a senzu. Vegeta's pride would probably enrage him at the affront of the mere implication that he might be anything less than ready for a fight. That wasn’t worth it. Besides, senzu healed injuries and restored spent ki, but they could not heal exhaustion stemming from a lack of rest or too much exertion.

So Gohan tried to ease up without being obvious about it. He pulled his punches and moved more slowly. He was a bit concerned when the reduced tempo actually seemed to work just fine for Vegeta, instead of earning him a scornful snarl.

And then Gohan cuffed Vegeta hard into the side and was horrified to see Vegeta's hair flickering black.

Right. Time to put his foot down.

“That’s it,” he announced, dropping his own transformation and hovering slowly back to the ground. “I think we should leave it for today.”

“Tired already?” Vegeta sneered above him. Gohan couldn't help noticing that Vegeta had dropped the transformation the instant Gohan had, as though unable to keep it up any longer.

“Yeah,” he lied. “I think I’ve had enough.”

Vegeta descended to the ground as well. “Okay.”

They stood there awkwardly. Gohan wondered what that was about. Usually Vegeta would leave right away once they had sparred. Unless they had sex, but that didn’t seem to be the mood today. Did Vegeta not want to leave yet? Did he want company?

Probably not. Vegeta was like Piccolo, Gohan knew. The longer you left him alone, the happier he was. But then why wasn’t he leaving yet?

Taking a chance, Gohan suggested tentatively: “You know, if you want we could go hunting before you leave. Or fishing. If you’re not busy. I promised Videl I’d bring something back for dinner.”

Vegeta seemed to hesitate for a second, but then he said casually: “Sure. Why not?”

 _Because you think I’m boring and would rather be alone in the GR?_ Gohan thought. But he left the rhetorical question unanswered and took off at a leisurely pace in the direction of the nearest wildlife inhabited area. He wasn’t about to look a gift Vegeta in the mouth.

  
  


****

  
  


An hour and a half later, they sat side by side at a fire gnawing on dinosaur bones. _Very savage_ , Gohan thought. He loved it. Just this once, why not.

Vegeta was silent, but it seemed to Gohan to be a companiable sort of silence. For once, the prince wasn’t even scowling. That alone was practically a victory.

Gohan tossed aside a clean leg bone, aiming it neatly at the pile they had created already, and eyed the remnants of the carcass contemplating whether he could get away with having another one. Before he could decide, Vegeta wordlessly handed him a tail steak.

Gohan grimaced. “You do realize I was supposed to bring these back home for dinner, right?”

Vegeta shrugged. “Just catch another,” he mumbled around a mouthful. He had chosen some of the larger organs for himself and was eating them still half raw.

Gohan took the proffered steak with a grin. “So, you like hunting?” he asked casually. He had no idea what the prince might do for fun, other than training.

Vegeta shrugged and gave him a non-committal grunt.

“Dad loves it,” Gohan continued. “He loves getting all up into blood and organs and stuff.”

 _This_ got a verbal reaction, though it was a grumbled one: “I know. The one time he’s a proper Saiyan, and it relates to food. Fucking typical.”

Gohan laughed. “So that _is_ a ‘proper Saiyan’ thing, then? I’ve been wondering.”

“Saiyan as tail,” Vegeta agreed with a brief smirk at him. Gohan’s heart beat double-time for a few seconds.

When he got his voice back, he quipped: “Well, more Saiyan than any of us then.”

Vegeta snarled at him – a gesture made much more impressive by the fact that his canines were dripping with fresh blood, but Gohan wasn’t scared that easily. “Don’t judge me by a lack of tail,” Vegeta growled.

Gohan rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t. I’ve lost my own too, in case you didn’t notice.”

Vegeta grunted, going back to his food. “Thanks to how much time I’ve spent looking at your ass lately, I _did_ notice.” There was a small grin on his face.

Gohan smiled at how Vegeta’s mood was improving. “Sometimes I’m not sure whether you’re angry or just pretending to be.” He stilled. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud and he wasn’t sure how Vegeta would react.

But to his surprise, the prince just chuckled. “Sometimes I’m not sure either,” he muttered.

Gohan’s heart skipped in his chest. That was probably the most personal thing Vegeta had ever said to him. He looked over at him, studying his profile, and his affection suddenly swelled to the size of a basketball pressing against his ribcage from the inside. It needed to get out of him somehow, so he said: “I really like you, Vegeta.” He hoped it didn’t sound too much like a declaration, or worse, a request.

The slightest frown appeared on Vegeta's brow but he said nothing. He didn’t even look up from his liver.

Gohan swallowed down the disappointment. It was stupid. What did it matter whether he liked Vegeta or not? They had an arrangement. That was all. It wasn’t like he could leave his family and date Vegeta.

He cast his mind around for something to say to cover the awkward moment. “Oh! I can’t do next week.”

Now Vegeta looked up sharply.

“It’s a family thing,” Gohan said apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you the week after next, though.”

“Fine, whatever,” Vegeta said after a moment and went back to his food.

“Yeah,” Gohan said. It would have been stupid to expect that skipping one week would upset Vegeta as much as it upset himself. But a part of him had hoped that the prince would be at least a little bit disappointed.

  
  


  
  


  
  



	15. Chapter 15

_featuring: Krillin has a nose in this one! OMG! It’s basically an Alternate Universe now!_

  
  


“Hey, dad?” Pan said, reaching for the water bottle to refill her glass. “We are covering ancient civilizations in school.”

“You are?” he said, sounding mildly interested.

“How old is Piccolo?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Piccolo?”

“Yes! Isn't he... well... ancient?”

Gohan chuckled.

“That's not a nice thing to say to someone, you know,” her mom said, grinning slightly.

“Why?” she asked in surprise. “Isn't it cool to be really old? If you have done a lot of interesting stuff... met a lot of people...”

“I'm glad you think so,” Gohan said smiling.

“But many people don't like to be asked how old they are. Especially women,” her mother told her.

“Well, Piccolo wouldn't mind,” Gohan said, glancing at her mom. “Did you want to ask him something about the past?”

“I thought Piccolo wasn't that old,” Videl said in surprise. “Didn't you say he was born only a year or two before you?”

“ _What?_ ” Pan yelped. “Dad, how old are _you_?”

Her mother broke into a giggling fit, and her father was grinning broadly.

“I'm not _that_ old, Pan,” he said, tapping her forehead playfully, “I'm 34. Piccolo hatched from his egg a while before I was born. But he's got his father's and Shen's memories, so for all intents and purposes, he might as well be centuries old.”

 _Egg? Shen? Hatched?!_ Pan scrunched up her nose.

Gohan seemed to see her confusion. “Why don't you go and ask him some questions? I'm sure he wouldn't mind.”

“That’s what I thought! Is he going to be at grandma’s birthday party?”

“No,” her dad said, making her heart sink. She had been hoping for that. “He doesn’t like crowds too much. And it’s not like Mom knows him well. No, if you want to talk to him, you’re going to have to visit him where he lives.”

“Um,” she said, fiddling with her chopsticks. “Okay. Sure.”

“I can come with you,” her dad said after a moment's pause. “We can go together, okay? Some time next week?”

She brightened up immediately. “Yes! Let's go together!”

Her mother was shaking her head. “How you can be afraid of Piccolo and hang around in Vegeta’s house is beyond me...”

“I'm not afraid of Piccolo,” she protested loudly. _As long as I'm not alone with him..._ Piccolo could go for long minutes without saying anything, just keeping quiet and looking off into the distance. That would unnerve _anyone_ , it had nothing to do with being _scared!_ She just never knew what to say to him that wouldn't sound stupid. Although he probably thought she was stupid, anyway. You never knew what he was thinking. And her dad said that Piccolo was extremely smart, so of course most other people would seem stupid to him.

It wasn't like she was a genius scientist like her dad. Yet.

  
  


****

  
  


“Happy birthday, Chichi,” Videl handed over their gift with a wide smile. “Happy birthday, Mom,” and “Happy birthday, grandma,” Gohan and Pan echoed her.

“Awww, thank you,” Chichi took the present, kissed Videl on the cheek and hugged the other two. “I’m so happy you could come.”

“Of course,” Gohan said smiling, and he meant it. Whatever difficulties they might have, they were family. It would never have crossed his mind to miss his mother's birthday party. “Looks like you’ve really gathered a whole crowd, Chichi,” Videl said eyeing the guests spread out over the lawn. “How are you going to feed them all? You’re too popular!”

Chichi laughed. “Only some of the cakes are mine, actually. I’ve enlisted some friends and also, uh, the bakery in the village. If that’s all right,” she added slightly hesitantly. Gohan waved her off. “It’s your birthday, Mom. You didn’t exactly go over the top by ordering a few cakes,” he told her sincerely.

“Thanks,” she said, her smile returning. “I really have to thank both of you for, um, reinstating our allowance. Even though Goten’s interview fell through, I mean.”

Videl and Gohan shared a quick glance. “Let’s not talk about that today, Chichi,” Videl told her kindly. “Maybe we can revisit Goten’s future another time, but today is about enjoying ourselves.” Gohan nodded in agreement.

“Then by all means enjoy yourselves,” Chichi beamed at them. “Though you might want to watch out for the wine,” she added to Gohan with a sly look, who grinned. “Sure thing, Mom.”

Videl blushed a little and swatted his arm, but grinned all the same. “Come,” she said hooking her arm under Chichi’s to lead her away. “Show me what presents you’ve gotten so far.”

Gohan watched them go. It was sometimes weird how normal they both were. Just a hostess with her daughter-in-law, having a garden party as if they had never heard of aliens and divine dragons, or died and been brought back to life. He wished he could forget as easily, but it had never quite left him alone. Maybe because it had all happened during his formative years? Well, he was no expert on child psychology. And who knew to what degree human psychology applied to Saiyans, anyway.

To be fair, he did know that they had not really forgotten. They were pretending. They had put it behind themselves and, by mutual agreement, rarely brought it up. They lived in the present. It was probably a very sensible thing to do. But somehow, Gohan had not even managed _that_. And the developments of the past months, the hard training, Pan’s interest in fighting, and most of all Vegeta, had brought everything back even more vividly. What was wrong with him that he found it so difficult to move on?

“Dad?” Pan said next to him. “I’m gonna find Maron, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling at her. “Go have fun.”

He wandered over to the cake buffet alone after Pan had bounded off, chose two delicious looking slices and then went in search of people he knew.

Unfortunately, the first person he knew turned out to be his father-in-law, and so Gohan turned on his heel before Hercules could see him, ducked around a small group of women from the village – and came face to face with Eighteen.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” he replied cautiously. Well, at least she wasn’t Hercules. But Kami, he wished he knew what she was thinking. Her face was like a stone mask.

Eighteen seemed to think that a one-word greeting really was enough in terms of conversation for the time being, and went back to staring into the crowd. Or above people's heads, it was hard to tell. The silence stretched into minutes and was only alleviated by the soft music playing in the background and the fact that Gohan had a plate full of cake to occupy him. Darn. Silence with Piccolo was comfortable. Silence with Vegeta was (surprisingly) also comfortable. Silence with Videl was… not possible for too long because she would usually start talking at some point anyway. Silence with Eighteen, it turned out, made him feel like he was being x-rayed from the side.

“So, how is Piccolo?” Eighteen’s cold voice said eventually. “Videl has just complained to me how you spar with him every week and could barely even stand to miss one day.”

Gohan swallowed. He looked up to see the android looking straight at him with her usual unreadable expression. He hesitated a moment, then threw caution to the wind. What the heck, they both knew what she was talking about, why deny it? “Have you told her? Or Krillin or someone?” he asked quietly.

“No.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

She shrugged, her arms folded in front of her chest. “I like it when people owe me favors.”

He grinned briefly. Well, he definitely did owe her for this.

“Besides,” Eighteen continued, “I don’t really see what’s wrong with it. Other than Videl not liking him. You both need sparring partners and you have a reasonably similar power level so that you can both benefit from training together. Big Deal. He used to spar with Goku all the time and Goku is gone. It’s a natural consequence.”

Looking at it from that angle, Gohan had to admit she had a point. He and Vegeta were, actually, natural choices for each other’s sparring partner. It might even be suspicious that he was hiding it.

Eighteen smirked. “Unless you’re secretly fucking him or something.”

Gohan’s heart slid into his stomach. He took two seconds to muster a “Ha ha,” as casually dry as he could make it. It had been a joke. That was all. There was no way Eighteen could tell by their kis that they did anything other than spar and talk.

“Here you are, honey,” Krillin said, coming up behind her to put his arm around her waist. “Quick, pull me into your conversation. What are you guys talking about? I need a rescue,” he jerked his head to indicate behind him.

Gohan took a look but there was just a group of their old friends. Yamcha, Oolong, Chiaotzu and… Tien. Oh.

“I’m just glad he didn’t bring that boy,” Krillin added quietly. “So, Gohan, what’s up with you? How’s work?”

But Gohan couldn't let it go at that. Maybe months of training (or months of sleeping with a man?) had made him braver, or maybe he wanted to believe that Krillin wouldn't abandon him if he ever found out about Gohan’s sexuality, but either way he said coolly: “Tien and Dao broke up a long time ago, actually. But he can date whoever he wants, you know. Dao seemed like a nice enough guy.”

Krillin looked at him. “Sure,” he said slightly hesitantly. “I just don’t like him waving it in my face, you know?” - “He never waved it in your face,” Gohan said, “it’s not like they had sex in front of you or something.” - “Ew,” Krillin wrinkled his nose. “Don’t be gross. What do _you_ think about that, honey?”

Eighteen looked at Gohan for a moment. Finally she said: “In terms of dating choices, I don’t think you’re one to judge, babe. At least Dao was human.”

Krillin laughed. “Yeah, okay, I give up,” he said good-naturedly. “Guess he can date whoever he wants. Just happier if I’m not there for it.”

Well, that was probably as good as Gohan was going to get.

Between Krillin’s homophobia and people’s distrust of Vegeta, no one would approve of him and Vegeta having sex if it ever came out. He frowned at himself. That was a stupid thought. They _shouldn’t_ approve if it ever came out. _He_ didn’t approve. It was wrong. Not because Vegeta was bad, certainly not because they were both men, but because Gohan was married. That made it wrong no matter what the circumstances.

And sure, it was exhilerating and incredible and, lately, unexpectedly easy. But it was nothing like a real relationship. Like what he had with Videl. Partners.

Even hypothetically, if Gohan ever got divorced (and where had that thought come from?), Vegeta would not be interested in being a _boyfriend_. Would he? He’d be terrible at it.

Gohan’s eyes found Bulma across the lawn talking to Lunch. He suddenly burned to question her on what a relationship with Vegeta had been like. Out of pure scientific interest, of course. It wasn’t that a relationship with Vegeta was in the cards for him, obviously, but still. He could dream a bit. Sometimes.

Gohan had been avoiding getting too close to Bulma since his teenage years, not least because he had nursed a crush on her boyfriend. Now, he felt a strange fascination with her. This was the woman Vegeta had loved. Probably. He didn’t actually know how deep the feelings had run. In any case, it was the woman Vegeta had two children with and _still lived with_. If anyone truly knew him, it would be her. She probably knew how to deal with him on those days when he was tired or anxious, or what kinds of things pleased him. All the things Gohan longed to know. But interrogating her on them would have been much too obvious.

And it was possibly kind of disrespectful to ask someone on advice how to date their ex. Yeah.

After excusing himself from Krillin and his wife, he did a quick check on Videl who was happily chatting about the plants in Chichi’s garden with a lady Gohan didn’t know. He left them to it, got some more cake, and spent some time talking to Tien and his group. He went to check on Pan and Maron who had stuck their heads together and were talking in whispers, but their giggling and blushed faces made him think their topic of conversation was nothing a father should intrude on. Were they discussing boys, maybe? Was it that time already? They were growing up so fast...

Then Chichi introduced him to a group of her human friends he had not met yet. One of them turned out to work in the administration of a different university, and they spent a pleasant time swapping stories of spoiled rich kids graduating without an ounce of brains.

Trunks and Goten had sneaked off, he could feel their kis far away in the capital city where they would probably attend some party or other.

All in all, it was a very enjoyable afternoon. He had to admit, it was almost worth skipping a Vegeta day for. It might do him good to talk to other people for a change. To see all his old friends from time to time.

When he found himself alone once again and in search of a group, he spotted Bulma who had occupied one of the lawn chairs and was sitting a bit apart from the crowd with a mug of coffee. He hesitated. If she had chosen to keep her distance, she probably wanted some time alone.

But then she caught him looking at her, smiled at him and gave him a small salute with her mug. Well, then he was apparently allowed to walk over.

He sank down in the chair next to her. “Oof,” he said, “it’s nice to have the noise of the crowd dimmed a little.”

“I know, right?” She grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s very nice, it’s just… ugh… exhausting, a bit.”

“Mh-hmm,” he agreed. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he went with the smallest of small talk. “But it’s nice to see everyone again, right? We don’t get together much these days.”

“Sure,” she agreed, but he could tell by her tone that that was politeness more than anything.

He chuckled. “You used to host all kinds of barbeques for them, you know. Do you not get along with them anymore?” Had she put the past behind yourself, like his Mom and Krillin?

“No, that’s not it,” she said, and paused. She glanced at Gohan as if to evaluate how much to tell him. “I don’t…” she sighed, then she said quietly: “I’m not sure if I fit in anymore. I feel like half the people here are too weird for me and the other half are not weird enough. Or like half of them are too normal and the other half not normal enough.”

Gohan stared at her. “ _Yes_ ,” he said more emphatically than he had meant to. “ _Exactly_.” He hadn’t been able to put it into words, but that was how he felt too. People like his mother, his Satan in-laws, even Krillin were so _human_ that they made him feel out of place. But on the other hand, Gohan felt too human himself to only deal with people like Goten and Trunks, Tien or Piccolo for the rest of his life, those among them who had never integrated into the planet’s society at all. Either way, he did not belong.

Bulma smiled at him. “Glad someone gets it.”

They sat there in companiable silence for a moment, listening to the soft music and the people talking.

“Do you miss him?” Bulma asked.

Gohan shrugged. Sure, missing one week wasn’t nice, but he would see him again the next week. It didn’t seem like something he should be complaining about. “Not real..-” he began, and then he frowned. “Wait. Miss who?”

Bulma frowned at him. “Goku. He’s kind of a gap here, you know. His wife’s birthday and he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“Oh,” he said. “Right. Yeah. Sure I miss him a bit.” _I’m not sure_ , would have been the honest answer. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he was almost glad his father was not around. But in any case, Goku’s presence would have been good for Pan. She deserved to have both a human and a Saiyan grandfather.

Bulma grinned. “Now I’m curious. Who did you think I meant?”

“Uh,” Gohan thought fast, settling on Piccolo and hoping his best friend would not mind being a stand-in for Vegeta one more time, “Piccolo.”

“Ah,” Bulma said, but she kept looking at him shrewdly for a second. “I haven’t seen Piccolo in forever. How is he?”

Gohan shrugged. “The same. He meditates or trains alone in the desert most days. Sometimes he visits Dende at the lookout. They have become pretty close. I think he’s very happy with his life. I’m going to take Pan to see him soon, actually.”

Bulma chuckled. “Brave girl. Bra just thinks Piccolo is creepy.”

Gohan smiled. “So does Pan. I can’t exactly blame her, I know he can be difficult to get along with if you don’t know how. But he’s got a heart of gold, really.”

Bulma laughed. “Sounds like my ex.”

Gohan’s heart did that skipping thing again. “Yeah,” he agreed. He thought it would be best to seem casual and not immediately change the subject, though. “If Pan can handle Vegeta, she can definitely handle Piccolo.”

Bulma looked at him sideways. “You don’t think Vegeta would be… a bad influence on Pan? Your wife seems to think so.” It was said too casually to be convincing.

Gohan hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t really any of Bulma’s business. But then he said shortly: “Videl and I don’t see eye to eye on that.”

“Hmm.” Bulma looked at him again as if she was really seeing him for the first time. Maybe she was.


	16. Chapter 16

_featuring: Pan asking questions about human history and Gohan asking questions about Vegeta's sexual history._

  
  


Chichi’s garden party left Gohan in a weird mood for the following weeks.

It was as if he was looking at his own life from above. He paid closer attention to everything he did, from flying to work to playing card games with Pan to brushing his teeth. Katas in the morning. Secret affair with Vegeta. Putting DNA samples into a centrifuge in the lab. Watching movies with Videl after Pan had gone to bed.

This was his life.

It had been his life for many years – minus the regular workout and, well, the Vegeta thing – but it seemed different somehow. Gohan felt a gnawing sensation that there was _something_ there, something big, something that was about to change, maybe? Or that he was missing? Or that he was having but didn’t want to have? He wasn’t sure. It frustrated him but he was unable to put the feeling into words.

He found, unsurprisingly, that the best cure for his restlessness was physical activity. His workout and katas brought him more joy than they ever had. While they had been a means to an end before, a necessary if not unpleasant chore, they were now something he actively looked forward to. He was sure he had by now reached and possibly surpassed the power level he’d had as a teenager. It felt great. He no longer knew how he had ever lived without it. He often found himself longing to test his new strength, to face a worthy opponent.

Thankfully, he was provided with this exact opportunity once a week.

Vegeta did not seem surprised that Gohan had grown more eager to spar over time (though his eagerness for their other activities had not dissipated either), nor at his rapid increase in power, and provided him with a welcome challenge every Thursday. Vegeta himself was able to reach the level of Super Saiyan Three more easily by now, and could keep it stable for over two minutes, as he had told Gohan smugly, though he had not yet shown him. Gohan suspected the transformation still cost Vegeta too much energy to initiate just for fun. He gladly looked forward to sparring with him at this level some time soon, though.

Other than Vegeta Thursdays, the highlight of the month was his excursion with Pan to see Piccolo. He had asked Piccolo in advance if their visit was welcome, of course, and the way Piccolo had confirmed this had seemed sincere if a bit baffled by the question.

Gohan could tell that Pan was nervous. He could not exactly blame her, but it did make him wonder if he shouldn't have brought them together more often before now. Piccolo was one of the most important people in his life, he wanted Pan to trust him as unconditionally as he did.

Well, they would go visit him and she would see there was nothing to be nervous about.

“Ready?” he said. “Got your notebook and pen?”

Pan nodded and patted the little bag she had slung across her shoulder. They were both wearing gis just like they did for dinosaur hunts or flying trips. It wasn’t like Piccolo would care about their fashion sense so they might as well be comfortable.

They took off, Gohan setting an unhurried pace at a straight vector towards Piccolo's favorite place in the desert, Pan following close behind him to take advantage of the slipstream.

  
  


****

  
  


Piccolo could feel Gohan and his daughter approaching from their home at the agreed time. He was still not quite sure what their visit was about. Gohan had said Pan wanted to ask him questions about the past. But surely, humans had history books where she could read about this topic? She learned this in school, didn’t she?

Either way, she was of course welcome to ask. He would just wait and see what it was she needed from him. Gohan being there would make it easier to understand.

He settled in to wait.

An hour later, the pair landed in front of him. Gohan looked as he always did. His daughter had grown considerably since Piccolo had last seen her, though. “Hello,” he said politely.

“Hello,” she replied. She seemed nervous. It was slightly disappointing. He didn’t want Gohan’s daughter to be frightened of him or otherwise dislike him. But he didn’t know how to make himself less threatening. He didn’t think he was very threatening at all, in fact, since he was just floating in the air with his arms and legs crossed. That was hardly a fighting stance.

Thankfully, Gohan saved him. “Hi Piccolo,” he said, his tone the same as always, “how are you?”

“The same,” Piccolo said. “You too? How was the party?”

Gohan smiled. “Fine,” he said. “It was nice. Mom decorated the whole garden and everyone was there. Well, _almost_ everyone. Dad was missing, obviously.” _And Vegeta_. The words were unspoken but Piccolo heard them anyway.

“And there was lots of cake,” the girl said and immediately blushed. Piccolo wondered what was embarrassing about cake. “And lots of cake,” Gohan agreed with a smile and gently touched her hair.

Piccolo looked at her and she seemed to shrink a little. He didn’t like this. “So,” he said in the kindest tone he could muster, “your father says you have some questions about the past.”

She nodded and opened her mouth, but then closed it again.

“What would you like to know?” Piccolo prompted her again.

“Um,” she said in a high voice. “I. Um. For… for example...”

“Oh, for Kai’s sake,” Piccolo growled. “I’m not going to _hurt_ you, you know.”

Pan blinked at him and then broke into a giggling fit. Gohan seemed either amused or exasperated by the whole thing, it was difficult to tell. “No, I know that,” she said, sounding much more like a normal person now. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“Then what?” he said. “Out with it. If I don’t know what’s displeasing you, I can’t stop doing it.”

“Um. I just… you know,” she blushed a little. “I don’t want you to think I’m stupid. If I ask questions. Because you are so smart.”

Piccolo frowned. “You are ten years old. You are not supposed to carry the wisdom of centuries yet. How could you?”

She shrugged and bit her lip.

“You will never be wise if you don’t ask questions. Asking is the least stupid thing you can do.”

She nodded slowly. “I want to be wise,” she said quietly.

Gohan grinned at her. “You have a long way to go then. Better start now. I’m three and a half times as old as you and I’m nowhere near wisdom yet.”

Piccolo snorted. “That’s why he has me,” he told Pan, ignoring the offended huff from Gohan since he knew it wasn’t real. “But if _you_ don’t want to rely on someone else for wisdom all your life, you should reach it on your own. So ask.”

The girl straightened up with a nod, and then unexpectedly levitated and crossed her legs mirroring his position. Piccolo felt pleased at this.

“So,” she said. “We have history class in school, right? And we are learning about ancient civilizations at the moment. We have to hold presentations, each of us about one group of people. Mine is on the Gythians.”

Piccolo frowned. “Gythians.”

“Yeah,” she said, faltering slightly. “I was hoping you’d know about them. They lived in Gythia about two and a half thousand years ago. The country is now called Groudia.”

“Oh,” he said. “I see. The ones with all the sheep.”

“Yes!” she said excitedly. “They made a lot of carvings and stuff with sheep on them. I read that they probably thought sheep were gods or something.”

Piccolo shook his head. “They had a different god. A wolf. They were very afraid of him. They believed that this god destroyed everything in his path and that they had to make more and more sheep in order to protect them from it. This is why they decorated everything with images of sheep. They believed sheep would continue to exist that way.”

“Oh,” the girl said. “Wow. They wanted to keep the sheep alive from the god?”

“Which made sense. They depended on sheep to live. It was of crucial importance to them. They even had a game they played with the sheeps’ horns.”

Pan pulled a notebook and a pen out of her bag and began taking notes.

  
  


*****

  
  


“They sound like really interesting people,” Pan said sadly an hour later. Piccolo had just described to her how the Gythians would celebrate the birth of a baby. “Too bad that they all died after that volcanic eruption.”

“That’s the way of the world,” Piccolo said. “Other interesting people live now.”

“I guess,” Pan looked thoughtful. “Bra’s Mom is working on a time machine. When that’s ready, maybe I can go and visit the Gythians one day.”

“Maybe,” he agreed.

“I just wonder why no one did anything. To protect them. Where were all the heroes when that volcano erupted?”

“There were no heroes,” Piccolo said. “Not like your father or your grandfather. Only human heroes.”

Pan wrinkled her nose. “Humans are too weak to stop a volcano.”

“Yes.”

She looked at him. “But you were there. Weren’t you?”

He hesitated. “I was Earth’s guardian. Well, part of me. But I was not in Gythia.”

“Why not?” she said. “You could have _helped_.”

“It’s not the role of the guardian to protect humans from everything,” Piccolo told her. “Natural disasters are part of nature. Death is the natural end of life.”

“So then why is there a guardian at all?” Pan asked frustrated.

Piccolo shrugged. “So that he can collect all this knowledge for when his friend's children interview him a thousand years later.”

Pan giggled.

“In any case, that is Dende’s responsibility now. He is the guardian. I am retired.”

“So now you have time, right? You no longer have to just keep watch?” Pan said. “Now you could go and help people!”

He looked at her. “There was an underwater earthquake in the Southern Ocean six days ago. It caused a vast wave that flooded the entire western coast of the continent. Hundreds of humans died. Where were you?”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Oh. In school, I guess. Or home or something.”

She seemed very sad at this, which was not what he had been trying to achieve. She seemed to think that it was her responsibility somehow. He had been trying to make an entirely different point. “It is the way of the world,” he repeated. “Even if you could save everyone, you should not. Everyone needs to die eventually.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem entirely convinced.

Piccolo looked around for Gohan who had wandered off a while ago. He could really use his support in this. Catching his eye, Gohan smiled and meandered back over.

“So if you don’t go around helping people,” Pan said. “What do you do here? Train all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he said.

„Hmm. You often just do nothing, right?“ she said. „You just… float?“

„I never do nothing,“ he said. „I meditate.“

„What‘s that?“ she asked curiously.

He closed his eyes briefly. „It means thinking deeply.“

„What do you think about?“

„The Earth,“ he said. „The universe. Its past, its future. The people in it.“

She looked awed. „Oh. Wow. I never think that much.“

Even Piccolo could not suppress a grin at that. „Gohan says you think reasonably often,“ he said to reassure her.

„She does,“ Gohan agreed emphatically, walking up to them.

„Not like _that_!“ she protested. „Can I learn it?“

Gohan contemplated this. „Most children just find meditation too boring, Pan. That‘s why it‘s something mostly done by adults. But if you‘re interested...-“

„I taught your father at the age of five,“ Piccolo added. „He likes it.“

„Well, I‘ve kind of stopped doing it recently,“ Gohan mumbled with a hint of shame. Piccolo knew why. If there was something in your life that you did not like thinking about, meditation could be difficult to bear. It was a shame. He had a hunch that Gohan might benefit from meditation now more than ever.

„But, uh, it‘s good for you,“ Gohan continued. „Studies with humans have shown that meditation strengthens your brain, you know.“

Pan‘s eyes grew wide. „It makes you _smarter?_ Is that why both of you are so smart? Because you meditate?“

Piccolo absolutely did not know what to do about the feeling that swelled in him at this compliment. Affection? Pride? Amusement? Embarrassment? He would have to meditate about it later. No one had admired him since Gohan had been a small child. It felt strange.

Gohan smiled. „It can‘t do that, unfortunately. But for example there is a large body of evidence that it protects you from psychological illness. Diseases in the brain,“ he added when Pan looked puzzled.

At that, she raised her hands to her head with a look of terror. „In the _brain?_ “ she said.

“Psychological illnesses don’t usually kill you,” he said gently. “And they don’t hurt like a headache hurts. They affect how the brain works. It’s complicated. But there are many illnesses like that. Depression, for example...-“

„Oh, I know that,“ Pan said with a look of relief. „That‘s when people are sad for a long time, right? One of our teachers had to stop working for a while because of depression. She was gone for a whole year. But she‘s back now.“

„Something like that,“ Gohan said. „Depression is a bit more complicated than just being sad, but yes. Psychological illnesses are… hmmm… when your emotions get out of hand due to problems with the chemical processes in the brain. Then the emotions are no longer connected to what‘s actually happening to you. For example, those people are sometimes afraid of things even when they know they don‘t really need to be afraid of them. Like crowds or small spaces. Other times, they can get angry very suddenly and lash out at the people around them even when they know better.“

„Like Vegeta sometimes?“ Pan asked seriously.

Piccolo could practically _see_ the thought of Vegeta passing across Gohan‘s face but he got his expression back under control quickly. „I‘d be very careful telling Vegeta he has a psychological illness, Pan,“ he said quietly. „I don‘t think he‘d appreciate that.“

„If it‘s an _illness_ , it‘s not his fault,“ she said.

„No,“ Gohan agreed. „But you know how he is. He would see it as a weakness and he sees any weakness as an insult. Besides, we don‘t know if he has something like that. I‘m not a doctor, Pan, I won‘t go and diagnose people with illnesses.“

Piccolo was impressed by the way Gohan was handling this conversation. He himself wouldn't have known what to say. Talking to children was probably a matter of practice.

Pan nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “Well, then I guess I’ll just learn how to meditate really well and I’ll be protected. Right?”

“Right,” Gohan agreed with a smile.

Though he didn’t really know why, Piccolo found himself smiling too.

  
  


  
  


****

  
  


A few days later, Gohan was the first to arrive at their regular sparring grounds. He landed near a fresh crater and couldn't help but smile fondly at it, remembering how they had created it the week before. Their sexual acts could be… explosive. With the violence of sparring and sex combined, they had really changed the landscape of the place. His eyes traveled around the area. There were so many craters, almost identical. Most of them had obviously been there for years, though, if the flora reclaiming them was any indication. Vegeta had said he had sparred there often with Goku.

_Hmmm…_

"Is this your way of warming up?" Vegeta's voice came from above him, making him jump. "It helps if you _move_ , you know."

"I was just thinking," Gohan answered. He had long begun to feel a lot calmer and more casual around Vegeta – or, well, at least he did not jump, blush or stutter half the time they spoke, and he regarded that as an achievement. It surprised him how considerate Vegeta had been with him so far. He was actually not too hard to get along with. "About this crater," he specified.

He could hear Vegeta chuckle. A second later, the prince tapped down lightly right behind him. "Sweet memories?" he teased and bit Gohan's shoulder not too lightly, accidentally or on purpose in the very same spot his teeth had drawn blood the last time.

Gohan smiled and bowed his head to give his prince better access. "Very," he said. He licked his lips hesitantly, wondering whether he dared ask. He had to make it sound casual.

“There are lots of older ones, though. Did they come about the same way?”

The prince chuckled. “You mean, have I fucked other people here?”

 _My dad. Have you done this with my dad? Oh God. Please just tell me you haven't done this with my dad. Please._ He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“I may have,” Vegeta said, his voice sounding much more naturally casual than Gohan's had.

Gohan waited with bated breath, hoping for an added explanation, _any_ reassurance that there had been nothing between his father and his current lover.

“So, let's get on with it,” Vegeta moved away from him, starting to stretch his arms as he walked.

“But...-” Gohan began to protest against his will. “So...?”

"Well, if you want to make a new crater today, you'll have to fight me to earn it. Wasn't that the deal?"

Gohan could remember no such deal and was unable to wipe the pleading expression off his face.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Don't worry, puppy dog” he said slightly mockingly, “you're my only pet at the moment. Now be a good boy and give paw for your treat. If you do a good job, I might even scratch your belly.”

That was motivating enough for Gohan to launch himself enthusiastically into their sparring. Now that he no longer had to watch his every movement, no longer had to actively coordinate his breathing with his punches, it was easy again. Natural. Fun. He could see what Vegeta saw in it, though Gohan had not _quite_ reached his level of obsession yet.

Gohan’s tremendous improvement in the power department had the added bonus of knowing Vegeta would stick around for the foreseeable future. They were now evenly matched enough for the matches to actually be _interesting_ to the prince.

This time was no exception. Within two hours, they had run each other ragged. And aroused. Definitely aroused. Gohan backed Vegeta into a wall of rock, eagerly pawing at Vegeta's uniform, which the prince allowed with a grin. Gohan would have loved to kiss him while undressing him, but he knew by now that that was unwelcome.

So instead he nibbled his way along Vegeta's neck while both their hands worked on freeing the other’s erections from their clothes. Once this was achieved and they had reached the stage of fisting each other roughly, Gohan had to lean into Vegeta who was propped up by the rock. Kami, he could hardly keep standing up, this was so good.

It seemed that they were both riled up too much to do anything other than this quick jerk-off, but that didn’t make it less enjoyable. There were times for slow and times for fast, and this was a time for fast. Gohan _loved_ the way Vegeta trembled under his hands as he came, his whole body shaking as if he were a violently vibrating cord.

But even after his own release, the random thought he’d had upon seeing the craters kept nagging in the back of his mind. He _had_ to ask, he just had to.

"Hey, Vegeta?" Gohan said casually when they were done and wiping themselves on the towels they had brought.

The prince grunted in response. His hair was curling from sweat in the back, making Gohan want to put his nose in it somehow.

"Umm… you didn't do _that_ with my dad, right?"

Vegeta snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." He put away his towel and flew off without looking at him.

Gohan was only _very_ slightly mollified by that response.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you google the Gythians and their lovely sheep customs, I sadly have to inform you that I made them up. I figured that since Dragon Ball is set on an earth different from ours anyway, they might as well just have a different cultural history. Seemed weird to have Son Pan do homework on Mesopotamia or something.  
> Also, in canon Kami was Earth’s guardian for around 500 years, so this would have been long before his time. But yeah. Fanfiction.


End file.
